


A Big Happy Weasley Family

by WerewolfWarriro



Series: Harry Potter, the Master of Death (and a Harem) [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Cuckolding, F/M, Harems, Lesbian Sex, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-11 00:09:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 110,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4413323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WerewolfWarriro/pseuds/WerewolfWarriro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The men of the Weasley Family have peculiar desires. And Harry's here to fulfill them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Weasley family Bull. (Cuckold story)[Het]](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/131582) by DobbyDobs. 



_**Voyeur** _

  
_34 years ago_

  
Little Arthur Weasley was only in his second year at Hogwarts. Little Arthur Weasley was not supposed to be up here on the second floor of his ancient family home. Little Arthur Weasley knew he was being incredibly naughty by even stepping on this floor at this particular time of the night – his parents explicitly forbade him from using their floor after curfew. But he couldn’t help it. The twelve-year-old boy really needed somewhere to pee – and his oldest brother was using the only bathroom downstairs. In desperation, Arthur – “Artie” to his family – had crawled up through the trapdoor and had used his parents’ bathroom, which was just outside their bedroom.

And just as he had finished his business and stepped out of the bathroom, he heard his father moaning. He was slightly concerned. He had never really heard his father moan like that before. He edged towards his parents’ bedroom, the door towering over him in the dark gloom of the night. His father moaned again. And the strange thing was, he heard nothing from his mother. He pushed at the door, and to his immense surprise, it budged. He had expected it to be locked with a charm, but it was open. He pushed the door ajar ever so slightly so that he could peek in and reassure himself that his father was not sick – merely having a bad dream… or something.

What he saw would leave an after-image that would haunt him for ages. His father was on top of his mother, the sheets were off and lying to the side and their bodies were pressed against each other. His mother’s breasts were squashed against his father’s chest and his father was heaving and grunting on top of her as she lay there with her legs spread out. Artie was not a naïve boy – he knew what sex was. He was in his second year – he had heard the older years go on and on about fondling and kissing and what not. And he knew that he was not supposed to see this… but he couldn’t help it. He was neither turned on nor repulsed – he was fascinated by not his parents’ bodies, but their expressions.

His father’s face was screwed up in pleasure – he could only glimpse the grey-haired Septimus Weasley’s side profile, but even from over here outside the dimly lit room, it was sufficiently clear that his father was delighted by his actions and what he was feeling at that moment. However, what really perturbed and fascinated him was his mother’s face. She was staring off to the side, towards the door that Arthur peeked through. She was not staring at him, just off at the wall that the door belonged to. He could see her face quite clearly from here. She wasn’t delighted – she was actually bored. She was looking askance at the wall as her husband rutted her from above, absolutely bored and sleepy. The expression on her face screamed, “Get it over with.”

Artie promptly withdrew his head, closed the door softly and descended down the trapdoor. He curled back into his blankets and fell asleep. He imagined the incident would fade into the back of his mind soon enough.

It did not. He would always remember the indulgent face his mother made when she engaged his father during their nightly romps in bed.

  
***

  
_Present Day_

“Y’know, Arthur,” Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic remarked, “You are a very, very lucky wizard.”

Arthur looked askance at Kingsley and smiled. The Minister was obviously referring to his wife, who had just left his shared office with the Minister after leaving them both with her famous home-cooked meals.

“Enjoy her food, do you?” Arthur asked jovially.

Kingsley laughed. “You know it,” he said, and hastily added, “Not that Molly hasn’t got any other endearing qualities, of course.”

“Of course,” Arthur said, with a small nod. He knew what Kingsley was getting at – his wife was bossy, and he knew it too. The war had devastated their family, especially with the loss of Fred, and Bill’s condition, but the Weasleys were nothing if not adaptable. And they were soon back to a normal routine. Bill was back on track working for Gringotts and going on assignments that would no doubt make both Molly and his own wife nervous. Charlie was back to taming dragons and was a constant target of Molly’s frequent admonishments – “find a girl and settle down” being the most frequent of them. Percy was a very high-ranking member of the Department of Experimental Spell Damage, and he knew Percy would soon be promoted to a more influential department within the Ministry. Percy was about to be married to a very delightful girl – Audrey – a very tall, blonde girl that modeled for Gladrags. George was doing well and was dating a former teammate on the Quidditch team from back when he was at Hogwarts. Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes were back with a bang; however, Arthur could never tell if George would ever get over his twin’s death.Ron would back in school for his final year as Head Boy (he was so proud when Minerva informed him about it) and was dating the delightful and intelligent Hermione Granger, the Head Girl. His youngest was also attending Hogwarts as part of her final year, and was soon on track (according to Molly’s words, at least), to be Mrs Potter, wife to the Slayer of Voldemort himself. Unfortunately, Hogwarts was closed for the year and his two youngest - and Harry - were staying at the Burrow. Which made Molly very happy because the house was so bustling.

Arthur did not know how he felt about his youngest and only daughter though. Oh, he knew Harry was possibly the best son-in-law his family could have, but whenever he was around the boy, he felt this undercurrent of power that he had only felt around Albus Dumbledore himself. The boy was capable of great things – and he knew that powerful men changed once they gained power. Yet, if anyone could resist the allure of power, it would be Harry. And either way, it was not like his little girl was aboutto declare an engagement anytime soon (or so he hoped – he didn’t think any of them were ready for that); they were still at school, and as such, had plenty of time.

And Molly herself, despite her bossy nature, was still getting back to her old self, and much to his delight (and possibly that of his co-workers), to her old shape. She had always been a gorgeous woman – a trait his little daughter had inherited. Molly Weasley wasn’t exactly a witch that would be on a Gladrags poster, like her daughter-in-law, Audrey – however, she was the sort of witch who  would appear on a Playwizard magazine. Massive E-cup breasts that stood firm and proud to this day, a massive ass that it was a delight to worship and a very pleasant face. To him, she was all woman.

Arthur looked around guiltily – he was supposed to be working, not daydreaming about his wife. However, he could not help but feel his wife was like fine wine – she had only become more alluring with age. He would be lying if he said their marriage had not had its ups and downs.

Most of those ups and downs, though, had been due to his extremely niche fetish, at least in the Wizarding World.

Arthur was a very submissive man in bed. He had a small penis, and had been very insecure about it when he and Molly had first done the deed. In all of their encounters since marriage, he had never managed to build up a resistance to her. She was so sexy with those massive breasts and that supple ass that he had never quite managed to hold off for long when he was inside her. And the best parts had been when she used to tease him about the size of his pecker while having sex. It turned him on and he finished faster when she humiliated and belittled him and bossed him around.

Then, ten years into marriage and four children later, Arthur started noticing his wife make that face when she had sex with him – that blank, smiling, indulgent face that just wanted him to get it over with so that she could go back to doing whatever it is she wanted to do. And that was when Arthur was beset by a very specific fetish. He wanted to see his wife sated in bed. Even in the Wizarding World though, there weren’t really any potions that enhanced penis sizes or sexual performance – or maybe there were; however, no self-respecting Potions Master would ever go about declaring he had such wares for sale. Sex was not exactly taboo in this world, but the Wizarding World was a lot more conservative when it came to such uncouth discussions.

Arthur had tried wearing a strap-on, but it never really felt… real. He wanted to see his wife satisfied and the thought of another man rutting into her as her face screwed up in pleasure set his  
loins on fire and his imagination ran wild. Eventually, he had broached the topic with Molly, who promptly proceeded to sock him in the face for suggesting something so audacious. He had continued to bring it up throughout the next few months before Ron was born and eventually, Molly relented. They had drunk Polyjuice Potion, disguised themselves in the form of random muggles and entered a seedy pub in Knockturn Alley as a very kinky couple. They had solicited a male patron to do the wife for a few Sickles.

And Arthur had never been more turned on in his life than when he saw a stranger take his wife, even in another form. He had made love to himself furiously as the man slammed his hips into his wife’s fleshy ass and had come twice from the experience. And then the man said something derogatory about both Molly and him and Molly had proceeded to hex the living daylights out of the poor stranger. Eventually, they had to end up obliviating the man. Molly had cursed up a storm afterward and did not speak to Arthur for a week after the incident. Eventually, Ron was born and Ginny was on her way – Arthur and Molly were back to their bland vanilla sex life.

They had broached the topic again, after Ginny went to Hogwarts and Molly had nothing to do athome. And they had taken Polyjuice again, but Molly lost her will just as they were about to make their way to Knockturn Alley. After that, incidents had spiraled out of their control and they had been busy with the war. There was no time to indulge in distractions.

Now, however, the war was over, and Arthur was beginning to feel the same urges again, especially when his co-workers watched his wife sashay out of the Minister’s office after feeding him lunch, all of their eyes (at least in his head) tracking her fine ass as it swayed hypnotically out of the room.

Arthur imagined them taking her holes, one after the other, as she screamed and moaned and gasped in pleasure that he would never be able to give her. But Arthur did not know if they were yet ready to have another go at the whole thing.

  
***

  
_Six Hours Later_

Arthur was now walking blearily back towards his bedroom. He had tried to initiate sex with Molly, but could not seem to get it up. She offered to help him, but he desisted, feeling peckish, and slightly perturbed at these recurring thoughts of indulging his old desires. So he thought he would distract himself with a nice midnight snack.

It was the beginning of the Christmas Holidays. He supposed the holidays didn't really matter for his youngest kids though, with Hogwarts being closed for a year to rebuild - Ron was at home, although, his youngest son did seem a bit depressed at the fact that Hermione Granger had gone to see her parents in Australia and was taking so long to come back. He had never really broached the subject with Hermione, or Ron, himself, but for some reason, her parents’ movement to Australia (or was it New Zealand?) seemed to be a sore spot for the pleasant girl. His favorite daughter (“Of course I’m your favorite daughter - I’m your only daughter, Daddy!” Ginny would say, when he said so to her) was chirpy though, especially, he suspected, because her relationship with Harry Potter was thriving, what with Harry staying at the Burrow as well. Bill, Charlie, Percy and George - who lived separately, of course - promised to attend the Christmas feast along with their significant others (except Charlie, who did say that he would bring a dragon along – Arthur hoped he was joking) on Christmas day, and that made Arthur very happy.

He feasted upon leftovers from a dinner Molly and Harry (surprisingly, the boy had a certain knack for cooking that eluded him – he felt happy for his little girl though – and often helped Molly when it came to cooking dishes; the more exotic the dishes, the merrier Harry seemed to be) had whipped up. And now, sated, he headed towards the Master Bedroom on the fourth floor of the newly  
refurbished Burrow.

And just as he was about to go up the staircase that would take him to the second floor, still two floors away from his destination, he heard a very familiar sound. It was very, very soft though, and he would never have recognized it if it had not been so quiet.

It was a moan. Only, it was female. And it seemed to be coming from under a failing silencing charm. He also noticed that the origin of the sound was Ginny’s bedroom - only, it sounded exactly like Molly’s voice when she felt extremely happy. Arthur edged towards the bedroom door, which towered over him in the gloomy corridor.

_Déjà vu._

He felt a sense of inevitability as he slowly pushed at the door. It did not budge. He pulled out his wand and cast a silent Alohomora upon the door. The door moved and a beam of light splashed through the hairline crack made by the open door. The room was obviously brightly lit from the inside.

He pushed the door ever so slightly, quickly disillusioned himself with his wand, and then peeked. And his jaw dropped.

His daughter was spread-eagled and facing the door, held aloft in midair, her thighs extended to either side in a straight line. Her perky breasts sported nipples that were rock-hard and her face was radiating bliss. Her eyes were glazed and staring up into space; and a stream of drool was running down from her open mouth. She was screaming, but all he heard was a soft high-pitched muffled  
sound from under the defunct Silencing Charm.

Her gaping vagina was squirting almost continuously, jets of transparent fluid ejected forcibly almost three feet into the air before they landed on the floor, and there was a steadily growing puddle of juices underneath her. Her back was arched and she was jerking spasmodically under the grip of a pleasure he had never seen on a woman’s face before.

And spearing into her dribbling twat was the largest penis Arthur had ever seen in his life, massive and veiny and ramrod straight with massive, cum-filled balls swinging back and forth right beneath it. His daughter was being held aloft by strong muscular hands that were connected to broad shoulders, which towered intimidatingly over his daughter. And all of these parts belonged to a very handsome man with prominent green eyes framed by messy black hair.

His daughter was being pounded mercilessly by Harry Potter himself. And she was loving every second of it.

And Arthur would never forget the look on Harry’s face. The boy… no, the _man_ … seemed perfectly at ease. His mouth was spread in a faint smile, almost like he owned her, and loved dominating women and bending them to his will.

Arthur Weasley had a very hot wife. Arthur Weasley knew he was not supposed to be here. Arthur Weasley knew he should turn away right now, close the door and snuggle back into bed with his loving wife. But he was _fascinated_.

And then, it clicked – he needed to speak to his wife very soon. He had found the right candidate to add to their bed and finally sate his peculiar fetish.


	2. Spectator

_10 years ago_

Little Ginny and Little Ronnie (though Ronnie hated that particular nickname) were at Auntie Muriel’s house and they were _sick_ of the smell of old lady that seemed to waft through the area. Granted, Great-Aunt Muriel always told great stories and made lovely fudge brownies, but it was the _smell_ that always got to them.

Luckily, Great Aunt Muriel had stopped the children from ceaselessly complaining to her by telling them a very old story. The Legend of the Curse of Stagg.

At first, Little Ginny was sorely disappointed that it wasn’t a story about Harry Potter, but then she remembered that Auntie Muriel never told her stories about the Boy-Who-Lived. Auntie Muriel always narrated stories about stuff that had happened to their family – and while some of that stuff was always gossipy and meandering, this particular story was riveting. And it wasn’t a story their Auntie had told them before.

“Long, long ago, before Merlin, before the Three Brothers,” said Great Aunt Muriel in her sharp voice, which retained its firmness despite her age, “There lived a powerful king called Artorigus. He was a great warlock – a chieftain of his Druid tribe that ruled over a brief stretch of land somewhere in Northern Ireland. He was also a man of many vices – his vices were harmless, but they were powerful. He loved his gold and he loved his women. Or perhaps he loved all women – for it did not matter to him if the woman was rich or poor, big or small, of noble birth or of mud. He loved them _all_. He seduced and courted them all. And not many men could compete with the king, so Artorigus soon built himself a harem of beauties that served him and only him.

“But one day, a pallor of doom settled over the kingdom as it was attacked from the sea by hundreds of brigands under the leadership of a Family that went by the name of Stagg. Three they were - a man, his wife and his daughter. And they soon conquered entire swathes of land that lay under the stewardship of Artorigus. They slaughtered dozens and lay waste to the lands they conquered – their intent was not to rule, but simply to loot and pillage.

“Artorigus the King eventually confronted the Staggs with his mighty army and they clashed atop a small hillock. The battle was long, and it was bloody – the brigands fought like beasts unchained, teeth bared and with fearsome magicks, while the King’s Army fought as one, disciplined and intelligent with steel and spellfire. Eventually, the brigands were massacred and the Staggs captured.

“Artorigus was furious. He ordered the beheading of the Patriarch of the Stagg Family, but his wife and daughter pleaded for clemency. You see, the Patriarch had a beautiful wife, with long, red hair and a graceful manner and a very pretty daughter, as fiercely loyal as she was beautiful. Artorigus – a connoisseur of beauty – was swayed by their allure and granted them this wish. However, Artorigus imposed a condition upon the two; he would only spare the man if the wife and daughter were willing to join his harem and swore upon their magicks to never see their husband and father again.

“The wife and daughter wept, and they pleaded, but Artorigus stood firm. Eventually, rather than succumb to despair and doom the man they each loved in their own way, they agreed to his covenants and swore their terrible oaths. The Stagg Patriarch was set free, but at the sight of his wife and daughter kneeling before Artorigus in supplication, the Patriarch felt such great sorrow that he could not bring himself to rejoice at all. He could not let them go, and they could never see him again, so rather than be parted from them, he built himself a great pyre and burned himself alive, hoping to be with them forever after death.

“But before he ascended the pyre and immolated himself, Stagg turned to Artorigus and cursed, ‘ _Thricefold shall your line pay for my defeat – one, the gold that you so love shall soon run out. Two, your line shall dwindle and sully itself with the blood of the muggles. And three, your line shall suffer the same fate that mine did - the men of your line shall beg for their wives to be taken by a man of my line. This curse I lay upon thee, Artorigus_!’

“And there was much thunder and lightning as Stagg burst into flame. Artorigus, worried by the Curse of Stagg, called upon his Council and they performed several charms to delay the onset of the curse. And they were largely successful, for Artorigus’ line flourished and grew well past the Age of the Founders.

“In the end, Artorigus died a happy man, surrounded by loving wives and children. His line, of course, is our own - the Weasleys - and they were rich and prosperous for a long time.

“As for poor Stagg, his wife gave birth to a son soon after her betrothal to Artorigus – it was rumoured that the son was a child of Stagg, conceived _before_ his wife had sworn fealty to her new King and Husband. Artorigus raised the child as his own, but the child was restless, and soon set sail for England, hoping to rid his name of the stench of Stagg’s legacy and the loathsome rumours that plagued him.

“And that child, Little Weasleys, was the first of the Peverells – the great line that gave rise to the founders themselves. But the Legend of the Curse of Stagg endures – it is rumoured that soon, the protective charms of Artorigus shall grow weak, and the curse shall come to pass; it waits in the shadows for its chance to infect the line.”

Little Ginny shuddered. “Auntie,” she said, “Does that mean… does that mean our family is cursed?”

Great Aunt Muriel smiled benignly at her. “Perhaps,” he Aunt said with an evil grin, “But your family isn’t exactly rich now, is it, child? Nor is our blood pure – not that it matters. Two of its conditions certainly seem to have come true, haven’t they? Curses work in subtle ways, after all.”

***

Molly Weasley sighed as her daughter gaped at her.

“You want… what?” Ginny asked, staring at her mother in astonishment.

_Oh, the things I do for love_ , Molly thought tiredly. Truth be told, she did know that her sex life did need a bit of spicing up, but she never really thought Arthur would be into _this_ sort of thing – it seemed inexplicable, to her at least, and she could never imagine getting aroused by watching her beloved husband do _that_ with someone else.

But she had tried once before, for him, and she still remembered how fascinated he looked during that particular encounter in Knockturn Alley – though she received absolutely no pleasure from that pathetic incident. She had resisted his demands afterwards, but lately, he was so persistent that she had eventually succumbed and even begun to _like_ the idea. Not that she would ever admit that to Arthur – although, for all she knew, Arthur would be turned on by even _that_ notion.

“Ginny,” Molly said gently, “You know about your father… and I.”

Ginny nodded. Unfortunately for Molly and Arthur, their eldest son had seen them sneak out of the Burrow on that night under the influence of Polyjuice and after overhearing a few conversations between the couple, had quickly deduced the peculiar fetish his father had. Of course, _Molly_ hadn’t known about it until Bill and Charlie finally confronted them about it.

It had been a long and painful conversation, but eventually, their sons had shrugged and accepted the idea. By now, _all_ of their children knew about their parents’ experimentation and grudgingly accepted it.

Molly knew, though, that grudging acceptance was not the same as whole-hearted approval. She continued, “And you’ve also always worried about… your problem with… Harry. The one we talked about last month.”

Ginny blushed furiously and said, “I…”

Molly interrupted, “And you did once tell me about how you wanted to expand the circle…”

Ginny countered hotly, “YES! But not _this_! Mom, that was a _joke_. I was joking! I didn’t really mean… how could you even _think_ I could mean that?”

“Oh you might not have _meant_ it – at least, not with your whole heart,” Molly said wisely, “But at least a part of you was willing to consider the idea.”

That gave Ginny a bit of pause.

Molly sighed. It would have been so much easier if Ginny had laughed in her face and then flat out refused. Molly would then have shrugged and told Arthur to forget about the idea altogether. But Ginny had hesitated – Molly did not quite know if her daughter truly did not mind the idea of occasionally loaning out her boyfriend, or if it was love for her mother that stopped her from refusing the offer outright.

But Arthur had been so _persistent_ about it – and when Molly really thought about it, and if she was honest about it, she _would_ rather it be a man they all knew and loved and trusted that she took into bed than a complete stranger. So now, it was up to Molly to persuade what little part of her daughter was sympathetic to the cause to embrace the idea that her boyfriend _could_ sleep with her mother, and that it was not the end of the world if he did.

_This is ridiculous,_ Molly thought to herself.

***

“You want me to do… what?” Harry asked, gaping at his girlfriend.

_Oh the things I do for love_ , Ginny thought tiredly. And truth be told, she was surprised at the fact that she had eventually been persuaded to ask her boyfriend about her mother’s request. She knew she should have been opposed to the idea, but she felt as if she was propelled by emotions and forces that she herself could not fathom – whispered words floating upon an ancient wind that blew from distant shores long lost to time.

Dim words that whispered stories of a curse and a story about a burning man, but the words themselves were long lost to the haze of childhood memory.

“Look, Ginny,” Harry said, “No. And I mean it. _No_.”

Ginny opened her mouth to say something, but Harry shushed her and continued, “Look, the Dursleys weren’t really great guardians – you know that – but they did manage to drill one particular lesson over and over into my head. Do unto others as you would have _them_ do unto you.”

“What does that have to do with anything I just said?” Ginny asked, puzzled.

“It means that if I starting sleeping around, that means you can claim what _I_ did as grounds for sleeping around too… and… I don’t think I would be able to stomach that. In fact, I’d _hate_ that. I’m not _that_ open-minded – or selfish… or whatever. Relationships should be symmetrical – they shouldn’t be skewed towards one partner,” Harry said.

“Our relationship isn’t skewed?” Ginny countered, “You do know you are an immensely powerful wizard, don’t you? You do know you’re _famous_ , don’t you? You do know you have an abnormally large sexual appetite, don’t you?”

“Ginny…” Harry began, but Ginny cut him off.

“Look, Harry,” Ginny said, “I’m not too proud to say that I _cannot_ keep up with you. I just… can’t. Harry, you’ve changed, and you _know_ it! I can _never_ keep up with you in bed, and we both lost our virginity to each other! And then I saw the Chang bitch make cow-eyes at you at every social function we’ve been to and now I’m scared that you will cheat on me because I can’t keep up when we all go back next year to school…”

Ginny was rambling and she knew it, which is why she was glad when Harry cut her off. “Dammit, Ginny,” Harry said, “This isn’t just about sex! I don’t care! I’m not that shallow!”

Ginny crossed her arms at him. “Exactly!” she said, “This isn’t! You’re just having sex with my mom. It’s a way to control your appetite without being tempted by the side menu.”

Harry didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or cry at that last analogy.

Ginny sighed. This was going to be a long conversation.

***

_2 days later_

Ron and Ginny had retired to their respective rooms after dinner that night. Harry told Ron that he wasn’t really sleepy and would be up as soon as he finished sorting through the internship offers he had received after the Battle of Hogwarts. Ron reminded him that they would only be in school _next_ year and this was supposed to be a break year – a year of rest after a brutal battle. Harry had nodded and had bid Ron good night.

Only, he was not looking at the newly arrived internship offers from Gringotts and Wimbourne. He was standing in the Master bedroom on the fourth floor, which had been completely sealed by silencing charms and repelling wards. Arthur Weasley sat on a cushioned chair directly facing the bed, and a _distractingly gorgeous_ Molly Weasley was on the bed, in a robe that gave Harry a glimpse of her tantalizing curves.

Harry had always noticed it before, but had never truly reflected upon it - Molly Weasley was a _very_ gorgeous woman. Contrary to popular speculation, she had never really been a maternal substitute to him; she had always been _Ron’s_ mother – an entity that was more “friend” than “family.” She had rich auburn hair that fell around her face in waves and what he thought was a strikingly beautiful face. A thin nose positioned perfectly between wide, affectionate brown eyes ( _Ginny’s eyes,_ Harry thought), and that sat above a pair of luscious, kissable lips. A slender neck that gave way to a surprisingly voluptuous body that never really ended. A massive pair of breasts stood proud upon above a very curvy stomach that arched to meet a massive, wide arse that he could imagine working over for _ages_.

He _had_ noticed all of that, but she had always been the forbidden fruit one simply does not take a bite out of. And yet, here he was.

This was utterly ridiculous. And he was unbuttoning his own shirt.

***

Arthur Weasley gulped as the Savior of the Wizarding World took off his shirt and cast it aside. He glanced at his wife, who was also staring at Harry, but her face gave nothing away. He looked back at the young man in his bedroom and had to admit that Harry had a body that women would simply swoon over. A sculpted torso, with a muscled chest that gave way to powerful biceps and massive forearms. He had always thought of Harry as someone who would develop a wiry build as he grew up, but he had obviously thought wrong. Harry had put on _mass_ – Arthur was almost tempted to ask _how_. Harry definitely had not looked like _this_ the last time Arthur had seen him, but perhaps there was some unknown way to belt up mass over a period of five months? He did know Harry had been apparating to the middle of London every day since the Battle at Hogwarts to “work out” – but surely, _this_ was an extraordinary transformation.

Or perhaps this had been Harry’s natural constitution all along and it was only the malnourishment and ill treatment at the Dursleys that held the boy back. Either way, the boy was a man now.

“Okay,” Harry said suddenly, gazing upon Molly’s form on the bed, his eyes obviously focused on her deep, seemingly never-ending cleavage than her eyes, “If we’re doing this, you should know something.”

And then he turned his eyes to Arthur. “Lately,” Harry continued, “I’ve been doing a lot of… uh… stuff… like this…”

“Harry,” Molly said gently, “We know about you and Ginny. And it’s okay, as long as you kids are being safe. Potions and spells.”

Harry nodded tightly. “That’s not the point I was trying to make,” Harry said, “What I’m trying to say is that… lately, while having sex, I’ve been a bit… feral. In the sense that, I lose control. Like, a lot. So once I get started, it might be a bit difficult to get me to… uh… stop.”

Arthur nodded. “And that’s exactly why you’re here,” Arthur said tentatively.

Harry held his gaze for a while, as if searching for something, then nodded back.

Then, much to Arthur’s surprise, something seemed to _click_ and the temperature of the room seemed to rise. Harry’s eyes seemed to change – where they were ice cold before, they were blazing green now and seemed to light up with a fire that could not be quenched. Arthur gulped, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw that his wife did so as well.

“Well, then,” Harry said, his voice husky and rough, “Molly… darling, get _up_!”

With a start, Molly got up. Arthur gaped – his bossy wife, who _never_ really listened to him and ordered him around in bed, had just agreed to Harry’s _order_ without a pause. Arthur dimly recognized that he was getting turned on.

A blanket of pure magic seemed to settle down on the room – crackling and spitting – as Harry covered the distance between him and Molly in two quick strides. Before Arthur could even blink, Harry was upon his wife, kissing her quite loudly. With a loud _smooch_ , their mouths met and Harry seemed to be practically dominating the shorter buxom woman now.

Their mouths were wide open and Harry’s fat tongue seemed to have burrowed deep into Molly’s mouth, intertwining with her tongue occasionally and teasing the sides of her mouth. Molly moaned. Arthur couldn’t resist any more – he quickly stood up, removed his pants and flung them aside. His three-and-a-half inch pecker was rock hard. And they had barely even gotten to the starter menu, let alone the main course.

***

Harry withdrew, leaving Molly gasping for air with a wild look on her face. “Enough,” he said, “Remove your robe.”

Hesitantly, Molly untied the sash that held her robe in place and shrugged the cloth off her shoulders. Harry’s eyes rove up and down her curvaceous body, from the titanic swell of her heaving breasts to her panty-clad crotch, down to her very toes. Despite the warmth in the room, Molly shivered in delight – Harry’s gaze seemed to hold a power of its own.

For the first time since they had started, Molly understood what her daughter had meant by “intimidating when we were together.” Harry was indeed very, very intimidating. And for the life of her, Molly did not know why that turned her on so much.

“Turn around,” he said harshly. Molly complied and her ass jiggled delightedly as she rotated on the spot. All of a sudden, Harry was on his knees with one hand hugging her legs and the other on her lower back. He exerted a firm pressure on her back, bending her upper body at a slight angle as he shoved his face right in her panty-covered asscrack.

Molly gasped in shock as Harry seemed to _inhale_ her wide ass. Then he took both hands off and slid her panties down on the floor to reveal her naked backside in all its glory. Molly tentatively stepped out of her panties and Harry threw them off to the side. He took a moment to admire the massive, pale, moon shaped cheeks that lay sprawled in his field of vision, then dove right back in. This time, he burrowed his nose deep in the valley of her soft, plump arse and shook his face from side to side. Her cheeks jiggled like jello and slapped against his face on either side. She gasped and then blushed, embarrassed, and yet turned on, at how Harry seemed to be _playing_ with her. She put a hand on the bed for support as he exerted even more pressure on her back, forcing her to bend at an even steeper angle. Arthur was sitting directly perpendicular to them and was watching the show with an open mouth, his erection very visible.

Molly gasped as she felt Harry lick all over her ass cheeks, one after the other, lavishing attention upon each plump portion with his tongue. She squealed as he lightly bit down on her left asscheek.

Harry stood up and turned Molly around. She was startled at the sheer size difference between them. Which was not to say that Harry towered over her, but he was so broad now that he looked positively, bestially large. He was at least a head taller than her, but his muscular shoulders seemed to extend well beyond either of her shoulders. He looked like he could crush her skull to death with his palms alone. That sent a thrill of fear and strangely, pleasure, up her spine, though she did not know why.

“Kneel,” Harry commanded, and Molly complied. She unbuckled his belt and slid his pants down. He obligingly stepped over them and kicked them aside. His boxers were the only thing that separated her from his… _thing_ now. Arthur Weasley took a deep breath. _Here it comes_ , he thought, and reached a hand out towards his own prick, that was just _begging_ to be touched.

Molly shrieked softly as Harry’s boxers tented up. It was _massive_. It was a wonder the boxers didn’t just tear apart due to the sheer size of the organ on display. Molly made as if to pull his boxers down, but Harry stopped her with a word.

He grabbed her head with both hands, burying his fingers in her rich, auburn mane and _nuzzled_ her under his humongous tent. Her face was buried in his crotch now. He laughed. And Molly couldn’t help herself – the scent was _amazing_. _Men aren’t supposed to smell this good_ , she thought, _especially not down here_.

She rubbed her face all around the inside of his thighs, his massive erection on top of her head messing up her hair. She moaned and groaned under the sheer weight of the thing on her head, and nuzzled right into massive orbs that she knew were his testicles.

Arthur rubbed himself furiously at the sight of his wife buried in another man’s crotch – it was incredibly erotic seeing his wife moaning like such a _whore_ , her massive tits hanging off her leaning frame as her face disappeared right between Harry’s powerful thighs, inhaling the scent of his crotch.

Harry then grabbed her hair and yanked her back. His erection slid off the top of her head and popped in front of her again. She looked up at him, her eyes glazed in bliss. She hooked her hands _under_ Harry’s boxers, in through the _legs_ of his boxer shorts and encircled his shaft. Her hands, of course, couldn’t completely encircle his massive rod and both of her hands together only seemed to cover half the length of the whole thing.

“My goodness,” Molly said in a shrill voice, “I’ll need a friend to cover the rest of _this_!”

Harry laughed. Arthur was now slumped down on the chair, rubbing pathetically at his own shaft with two fingers and a thumb. It was incredible – his wife was actually jacking Harry off with _both_ her hands, yet the truly erotic part was the fact that he _couldn’t_ see it. Her hands were completely covered by the boxers Harry wore. All her could see was the tent jerking back and forth as Molly hands presumably whipped around Harry’s massive cock.

“Enough teasing,” Harry said, and Molly bit her lips. She _needed_ to see this – she was in a haze. She had noticed her husband jerking himself off furiously to the side and that spurred her own lust into a greater frenzy. She yanked Harry’s boxers down and then shrieked as his enormous shaft popped up.

“Almost took my eye off!” she squealed, and then giggled. Harry laughed as well. “Well?” he asked, “What are we waiting for?”

Staring straight into Harry’s eyes, Molly opened her mouth as wide as she could and _plunged_ down upon his shaft, nearly impaling herself upon it. She held onto the base with both hands – his cock was so humongous that even with two hands and a mouth, she _still_ could not cover it.

Harry himself felt as if he had ascended to the seventh circle of heaven. Ginny’s _totally hot_ mom was jerking him off while simultaneously trying to deep throat him. Her enormous breasts smashed into his thighs as she jerked forward, trying to _stuff_ his penis into her throat, her tongue _lashing_ it mercilessly. And best of all, she was screaming _as_ she was doing it, almost like she was yelling out a war-cry as he tackled his… tackle. Harry sniggered at the pun he had just made up in his own head, then moaned as he felt Molly’s hot, wet mouth coil around him. Her cheeks were drawn in as she sucked _hard_ at his cock.

He yanked her right off and she gasped for breath, a trail of saliva connecting her lips to his cockhead. Then he plunged her right back in with a loud pop. She _screamed_ again, her vibrating throat palpitating his cock as he plunged into her hot, wet mouth all over again.

“Your husband _loves_ it, Molly!” Harry moaned, “He loves watching you take that down your throat!”

“Yes,” Arthur gasped, as he leaned forward, his eyes focused on Harry’s massive cock tearing open his wife’s mouth. Suddenly, Harry twisted Molly’s head until her glazed eyes were staring right in Arthur’s direction. Her right cheek bulged as Harry’s massive head jammed up against it. Harry withdrew ever so slightly and then pushed again, contracting and expanding her right cheek with the force of his short jabs.

Then after several quick, brutal jabs, he let go. Molly turned around and started bobbing up and down his cock – she was barely taking a quarter of his entire penis, but Harry _had_ to admire the effort. His head seemed to bump against the back of her mouth at each downstroke and the tip nearly left her head at each upstroke. Her tongue continually lapped away at all the flesh that it could reach, occasionally teasing around the _eye_ of his penis. Harry _loved_ it when Molly did _that_.

Then, he placed his hands upon Molly’s shoulders, stopping her motions, and walked forwards, pushing her down. Molly gasped and choked around his cock, but he did not relent. Eventually her head was between his things and his cock buried deep into her mouth with his balls on her chin. He pivoted swiftly on the spot. With his cockhead still inside her hot mouth, he rotated so that she was now leaning back with her breasts proudly pointing at the ceiling. Now, her head was right underneath him, only upside down. He chin faced away from him and her forehead was right between his thighs, staring up at his muscular backside. His massive balls settled around her nose. Molly would have fallen backwards, if Harry wasn’t holding onto her face with his strong hands.

Harry loved this feeling. His cock was pointing straight down into Molly’s mouth and his hanging balls were hovering mere millimeters above her nose. Then, he bent his knees and _plunged_ down. Molly gagged as his cock went straight into her throat and his head burst through the back of her mouth. She screamed and his balls slammed into her nose, burying her thin nose right into the valley between his massive testes.

“No, Molly,” Harry said harshly, “You’re not in control any more.”

And Molly knew it. She was nearly falling backwards and his massive testicles were blocking off her nasal passage. His cock was bulging into her throat and she had never felt more turned on. She had _lost control_ and it was amazing. She was spitting and choking and practically _painting_ his cock with her saliva.

Harry rose up on his toes until only his head was left in her mouth, before plunging right back down again, smashing her face with his heavy balls once more. And repeated the motion until he built up an amazing rhythm, slapping his balls down her face each time he went down and shoving his cock further and further up her mouth.

“You little harlot!” Arthur gasped, his knees wide apart as he jacked off furiously, “Take that cock, you _whore_!”

And Molly was screaming and gagging and taking it all in like a champ. She slobbered all over the cock that was claiming her mouth as property and rubbing her nose against his balls each time they deigned to smack themselves down on her. And then, Harry drew off. Molly was about to fall backward, but Harry seized her shoulders roughly and pulled her up to her feet.

Then, with a mighty shove, she was thrown upon the bed. Molly’s knees felt slightly numb after leaning on the floor for so long. But even without touching it, she knew her pussy was _dripping wet_. She had never been more turned on in her life.

Harry then knelt right in front of the bed (right in front of Molly’s husband too) and buried his face right back into Molly’s ass, like he had found a home there. He licked and massaged around Molly’s thighs with his tongue and hands respectively for several minutes until Molly groaned and tried to force her dripping twat onto Harry’s mouth, but he was having none of it. He was still teasing and laying languid licks _around_ it instead of _on_ it. _The brat,_ Molly thought.

And then, all of a sudden, he was _back_. He burrowed his nose into her rosebud and Molly gasped as his mouth finally met her pussy with an open-mouthed kiss. He slurped noisily at it and she moaned loudly. And then she felt his mouth withdraw with a slurp and something _hard_ plunged into her.

“You like my fingers in your twat?” Harry taunted, “Merlin, Molly, you’re flowing like a bloody waterfall!”

Harry turned his head sideways and addressed Arthur, who was jerking himself off furiously on the chair behind him. “She always get this wet, Arthur?” he asked.

“No!” Arthur gasped. The sight of Harry making Molly moan with his _tongue_ and _hands_ was so amazing – he had never managed anything like it before. Amidst his lust filled haze, Arthur had to wonder if there was something deeply wrong with him for being like this. Then he shrugged it off and answered, “Not for me.”

“Huh,” Harry said, and shrugged. He did _not_ want to go there. And he plunged right back in. With his fingers still inside, he rolled up his tongue, pushed it right in, lapping inside her pussy as Molly slammed her fist on the bed in pleasure. Then he grinned inwards – he had discovered a new trick over the past few months.

He breathed inwards, focused his _sense_ – his magic, as it were – on his tongue, and then breathed out, letting the magic flow through it. While Molly wouldn’t really _feel_ the magic itself, the discharge of magic through his tongue had a certain side effect that Ginny certainly appreciated when he went down on the redhead. His tongue _vibrated_. And with _great_ frequency.

Molly screamed so loud Harry felt like his entire head was reverberating with the sound. _Man_ , he thought, _this woman sure has a healthy set of lungs on her_. And then came the fountain. Harry almost laughed at how much the mother resembled the daughter. Tremendous spurts shot straight out her twat in arcs that spanned several feet. It was like a series of low-pressure jets ejecting straight out of her pussy, one of which landed right near Arthur’s legs, and he was sitting _five feet_ away, at the very least. _Exactly like her little daughter_ , Harry thought smugly.

Arthur was so surprised he stopped rubbing for the first time since he’d started. He had _never_ seen Molly do _that_ – if he wasn’t intimidated by Harry before, he definitely was now. He still didn’t regret this decision, but he was highly surprised at this amazing sight.

Molly slumped on the bed, her body shivering with the force of the after-shocks that accompanied her _amazing_ orgasm. She could barely make a sound – her throat was raw from screaming and she was literally panting into the bed now. Her limbs felt loose and she couldn’t seem to move. Her amazing ass was perched high in the air, her quivering cunt open wide for all to see.

Suddenly, Harry slapped her ass with both hands and lifted it into the air with a strong grip. Her torso still lay on the bed as he dragged her across the bed until she was lying lengthwise across it. He _pushed_ and she crawled across the bed with what strength she had left. She felt Harry get on the bed behind her. He waddled on his own knees towards her.

She was now on her knees, her body slumped forward with her enormous breasts squashed on the bed. Her husband was off to the side, and had resumed jacking off, at a more gentle pace as he waited to see what Harry was about to do next. He gasped as Harry got onto the bed, enormous cock swaying imperiously, behind his wife.

Harry lifted his cock up and waddled up to Molly until his balls slapped against her ass, now littered with her own pussy juices that had sprayed all over the place. He then let go of his cock so that it lay right on top of her ass.

Arthur gazed in shock, rubbing a bit more rapidly now as he saw how gigantic Harry really was – it was a _monster_. It was bigger than Molly’s ass was, with its head on her lower back. It was, or at least appeared to be, thicker than his forearm. There was no way that would even fit inside her!

Harry drew back and bit till his balls were no longer touching Molly’s quivering pussy and slammed straight back in again. His balls made a loud slapping sound against Molly’s cunt as his cock humped against her ass crack. He was virtually dry humping her now, with his cock nestling in and out of her magnificent ass cheeks. And Arthur could see the rise and fall of Harry’s penis as it snuggled in and out of Molly’s rear-end.

Harry kept up a furious pace – his massive cum-filled testicles were laying resounding smacks upon Molly’s twat, which seemed to _kiss_ them each time they slapped against it and the friction of his enormous penis against her ass-crack felt _amazing_. He was spanking both her ass cheeks with his hands as he did so, each hand alternating on each cheek, leaving them red and raw. Molly was panting again, her pussy juices _flowing_ down his balls now, droplets bouncing off them onto the bed as her cunt drooled underneath his shaft. She slowly pushed herself up and snuck her right hand underneath her, even as Harry kept humping her ass. And each time Harry’s testicles came with range, she rubbed his balls with the flat of her palm, even as they smacked against her vagina.

Arthur couldn’t take it anymore. He spurt all over the floor – the sight of Molly cradling Harry’s balls with her hand as he dry-humped her was just too much. “You whore!” he grunted, as he ejactulated, “Fuck!” And his orgasm seemed to go on for almost twenty seconds before he finally stopped ejaculating. His left hand was all wet now with his own sticky semen, but he just _couldn’t_ stop. Not now. Not even when the main event hadn’t started.

Harry laughed – that was possibly the first time he had heard Ginny’s father swear explicitly. _Well, no sense prolonging this_ , he thought. And he drew back.

With a gentle push, he stuffed his massive cockhead inside Molly’s gushing pussy. The auburn-haired mother arched her back in pleasure and looked straight at the wall opposite her with unseeing eyes. “Harry!” she screamed, “Gently! Your head is bigger than my husband’s entire cock!”

And that set Arthur off again, and he was _hard_.

Harry pushed further. Molly’s twat seemed to dribble all over his penis as more inches of cock-meat sunk deep into her cunt. And then, with a deep breath, Harry _pushed_. His hips met Molly’s plump arse with a resounding clap and Molly pushed her face down into the bed to let out a muffled scream.

“So… fucking… tight,” Harry grunted, “You’re a lucky man, Arthur.”

“ _Fuck!_ ” Molly screamed, her words muffled by the bed she had pushed her face against, “I don’t think I’ll ever be tight again, Harry!”

Harry choked out a laugh and then pulled back. Molly moaned at the gaping emptiness and then let out another muffled scream as he plunged straight back in, filling her right back up. And just like that, Harry starting pulverizing her pussy.

As for Harry himself, if he had thought that blowjob was amazing, this was truly _heavenly_. For a woman who had popped out so many children, her twat was remarkably tight. He felt like he was parting flesh each time he speared in, his head seemingly tearing her inner ( _soft, wet, silky_ ) walls apart as he plunged in. And his head met her bony cervix each time – slammed and smushed against it - and Molly seemed to _love_ the feeling. _Like mother, like daughter_ , Harry thought again.

“And now onto the _next_ level,” Harry said as he rose to his feet, keeping his penis stuffed into that amazing cunt. He squatted down, his thighs nearly perpendicular to the ground, his feet planted firmly on the bed. He was perched above her like a caveman, his dick was in her gushing cunt and her gigantic ass was smushed against his abs. Time to _act_ like a caveman then and pound her pussy into dust.

And pound her he did. Molly felt him get up, but she hadn’t expected him to _up_ the ante. He was pulverizing her insides now, reshaping her cunt and absolutely ruining her for her own husband. She screamed into the bed, slammed her hands against the soft material, tore at the sheets and moaned. And the best and the _worst_ part was that he was rubbing _everywhere_ , against her _sweet_ spot and his balls were smashing against her puffy, swollen clitoris.

Arthur didn’t know he had it in him, but he was nearing a _second_ ejaculation. He watched, drooling as Harry _rode_ his wife in a power stance, squatting atop the bed and virtually pounding _down_ on his wife’s ass as he slammed his meatstick into her gushing pussy.

After nearly _twenty_ minutes of furious pounding, Harry grabbed Molly by her auburn tresses and pulled. Molly’s muffled scream now turned into an open-mouthed scream as her face rose off the bed and into the air. He then slumped back onto his knees and pulled Molly into him, her massive arse squishing against his hard abdomen. He then let go of her hair and grabbed Molly’s tits with both hands. _Merlin,_ Harry thought, _these are enormous!_ He juggled them, parted them and slapped them together with his hands, groping and squeezing and relishing the heavy feel, even as he pounded furiously into Molly’s pussy. And then he grabbed both her nipples with strong fingers and _pulled_.

Molly screamed and _squirted_ , again. She almost appeared to be pissing herself as a large puddle grew on the bed. Arthur followed suit. At the sight of his wife shuddering in delight, he ejaculated for the second time that night, adding to the droplets of sperm on the floor. His ejaculate was notably less this time around and he knew he was practically running on fumes now. But he just could _not_ stop. Not with this young Adonis practically _owning_ his wife like this.

Molly tried to scream out to Harry to stop. The pleasure was too much – it was overwhelming and she was beginning to see spots. She really did try to scream at him to stop, but he showed no mercy. He kept thrusting into her ( _the fucking brute_ ) even as she squirted _around_ his cock, allowing her no respite at all. Her scream had long since died as she rode one high to the next, her mouth now open and her eyes rolling up into her head.

She couldn’t even stay on her knees anymore, and slumped against Harry’s hands. He laughed and let go. In relief, Molly tried to slump back down onto the bed, falling forward, but before she could, Harry hooked his hands around her thighs from behind and _lifted_.

Molly gasped audibly as she was raised into the air, her legs spread out on either side, her thighs held aloft by Harry’s powerful hands. Her back was slumped against his muscled chest and her breasts were being jiggled around mercilessly by his constant pounding. She was spread-eagled in his arms. Harry got off the bed and displayed her body to her husband, heaving breasts bouncing atop a tummy that bulged periodically with each thrust of his penis. Arching back. Legs spread out right at him. Plump ass squashed against Harry’s midriff. And on prominent display – her juicy twat, tearing open at each titanic thrust of Harry’s enormous shaft.

Molly’s eyes were rolling up into the back of her skull. Her tongue was lolling out of her mouth like a bitch in heat and her mouth was gaping into a stupid smile. She was utterly and entirely lost to bliss. And right next to her face was Harry’s, smiling confidently as he utterly _destroyed_ her cunt with his shaft.

Arthur remembered the scene he had peeped in on with Harry and Ginny in a hot flash. Harry was dominating his wife exactly like he had dominated his daughter. And his wife was _loving_ it.

And Harry’s pace nearly doubled. Arthur’s eyes bulged at the pace Harry was going at now. Molly’s limbs were hanging loose off his hands, dangling useless as she was reduced to a quivering mess.

“You _cow_ ,” Arthur snarled as his pace of masturbation turned frantic, “Look at you taking that log up your dirty little hole.”

“I’m sorry, Artie!” Molly screamed, “I’m… sorry!” She was still making that stupid face. “This… is… AMAZING! This… _cock_ … AMAZING! FUCK!”

And the last word turned into a scream – only this time, it seemed to be stuck in her throat and came out as a high-pitched keening sound. For the third time that evening, Molly squirted. And she was barely three feet away from him. Each jet of delicious juice splattered his face and he was drowning in a pleasure that extended beyond his own mind and his wife’s. And Arthur came, again. This time, it was pretty much empty, only a few transparent drops oozing out of his battered penis.

“Where do you want me to cum?” Harry asked, as Arthur jerked himself off furiously and his wife just kept squirting, her entire body trembling and writhing as if it were under the Cruciatus.

“Seed me!” Molly screamed, just as Arthur yelled, “Inside.”

Harry grunted. Arthur watched in amazement as his heavy balls seemed to _pulse_ – once, twice, thrice, four times, five, six… it seemed to go on and on, And each time he pulsed, Molly seemed to squirt, still letting out that choked scream. Luckily for Arthur, she was squirting _down_ this time, and her squirt seemed to be mixed with _Harry’s_ ejaculate. His wife was practically sitting on Harry’s balls now, his _entire_ length buried inside Molly – the young man was practically ejecting his baby batter right into Molly’s womb.

As Arthur came down from his own high and saw a mixture of Molly’s juices and Harry’s semen forming a puddle on the ground, he was _very_ thankful that they had prepared those anti-pregnancy potions before this amazing encounter.

***

Arthur sighed happily as Harry pulled Molly off his shaft, now glistening with Molly’s pussy juices, and slowly laid her onto the bed, his erect cock still throbbing. Harry’s wand seemed to come out of nowhere as it appeared in his hand. He waved it over the dropped clothes and they reappeared over his body, his belt fastening itself around his pants. He still had a very visible tent, but he silently walked out of the bedroom, as coldly as he had come in.

There was nothing left to say.

Arthur gazed with lust-filled eyes at his gorgeous wife as she lay before him with her legs spread out and her gaping cunt on display. What seemed to be _gallons_ of semen were oozing out of her cum-filled pussy. She had literally _fainted_ with pleasure.

Arthur couldn’t take it anymore. He jumped on top of his wife, buried his face in her cleavage and burrowed his small prick in her pussy.

She was _very_ loose, and he loved it. He used Harry’s sperm as a lubricant as he slid in and out of her sloshing pussy like a man possessed. And in four strokes, he had orgasmed again – a completely dry orgasm this time – and dropped beside his wife with a sigh as he went to sleep.

He had never been happier, and he could _not_ explain why. Harry was everything he and his wife had dreamed about, and much, _much_ more.

***

Harry didn’t go up to Ron’s bedroom. He didn’t want to.

He went straight down to Ginny’s bedroom. He entered it and saw that it was brightly lit. Ginny was lying on the bed and gazing up at the ceiling. Her eyes snapped to the door as he entered and her face lit up with a smile.

He opened his mouth, but she quickly crossed over to him and shut him up with a kiss. She drew off and said, “I don’t care. I don’t need to know. I _love_ you.”

“And I love _you_ ,” he rejoined.

She smiled, and started unbuckling his pants. “Then prove it,” she said, “Prove that you’re mine. Make _love_ to me.”

And Harry bestowed an affectionate smile upon her as they kissed and tumbled onto the bed. Harry knew this wasn’t going to be like the frenzied _stuff_ he had done upstairs. This was going to be loving and gentle.

He could sort out his feelings tomorrow. For now, he was with the one he loved, and he could keep going with _her_ forever.

***

_The next day_

“Ginny,” Ron asked his sister tentatively, “Is something troubling you?”

He had noticed his sister biting her lip as she looked at Harry flying around the Burrow on his Firebolt. She was disturbed by something. And he wanted to help. He knew Harry had been sneaking down to his sister’s bedroom, and he didn’t mind (he imagined he would be doing the exact same thing once Hermione visited the Burrow).

Ginny looked at Ron and then looked away. Then she looked back at him, and hesitantly, began to speak.

***


	3. Warrior, Part 1

Harry zoomed around on his newly acquired Nimbus 2001, zig-zagging through the trees in the orchard next to the Weasley home with the wind whipping around his face. He loved this feeling – the feeling of leaving all earthly emotions behind and just living in the moment.

But lately, he was plagued by all sorts of emotions – emotions he felt even here, in the Burrow, in what was supposed to be his escape and safe haven. The most prominent among those emotions was, strangely, happiness. Not the sort of happiness that was brought about by peace and contentment, but the sort of fierce joy brought about by nights of debauchery and violence.

And that worried him. Ginny had been right – he had changed after the war. Ron had broached the topic with him as well, and he knew that if _Ron_ noticed, then it was more evident that Harry had realised. He kept shrugging it off, but he knew that the question was valid. And the worst part was that he knew what the answer was - he knew why he had changed.

The answer was a piece of wood strapped to the holster on his right arm. The Elder Wand.

He sighed as he rose into the air, higher and higher on his broom. What he had done after the Battle was beautiful and noble and poetic – he had given up the fearsome power of the Elder Wand for a life of purported peace and happiness. It was an earnest gesture, one worthy of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, Slayer of Voldemort and the Golden Boy of Gryffindor. Just like in the stories.

It was ironic then that the very next day after the Battle of Hogwarts, even as medi-wizards and medi-witches crowded around tents set up within the ruins of Hogwarts to tend to wounded students and adults alike, he noticed Xenophilius Lovegood, of all people, skulking around Dumbledore’s marble tomb and trying to pry open the lid of the grave.

Xeno Lovegood! And he was supposed to be one of the good people!

In retrospect, Harry had divulged quite a bit in his last speech to Voldemort, and in front of quite a few spectators as well, missing Death Eaters among them. The Malfoys had practically vanished after the battle, and so had the Notts. And of course, several residents of Hogsmeade had heard his little speech as well – word tended to get around and the Elder Wand had quite a reputation, even outside the shores of England.

Of course, it would take a crafty wizard to put together what Harry had said and surmise that the Elder Wand was buried in Dumbledore’s tomb, but _Lovegood_ had figured it out, and so would others. So Harry snuck into the tomb a fortnight after the battle, after much hair-splitting and nail-biting, and retrieved the wand.

He promised he wouldn’t use it – that he’d just learn enough to safeguard it forever and let it die with him. But he had forgotten how powerfully seductive magical objects could be. He had long since formed a hypothesis - the Hallows didn’t just attract people of a certain mindset, like the stories said; the Hallows actually _changed_ minds. He supposed that was what the Cloak did – it subtly influenced him to actually aspire to a life of mediocrity, staying under the radar and keeping his abilities as much a secret as he could so that he would live long and be prosperous. Of course, the Cloak did not make him meek and subservient – it still gave him enough strength to push himself to achieve just enough to save his own life (and perhaps that of his friends). For the Cloak was supposed to help people evade death.

However, the Wand was different. It was not subtle at all – it was a powerful object, but as blunt as a bull in a china shop, bludgeoning his mind with fury and violence... and, he presumed, lust. He was told, time and again, by Ginny that his ability in bed couldn’t possibly be human. Harry liked to think it was all him (and perhaps it truly was), but his stamina did seem to be inhuman… not that he (or Ginny) was complaining. And the Wand had affected his body quite noticeably – he was broader than Fred or George and his muscles had grown by _inches_ in circumference. Of course, he did go to a gym in London to work off his feelings of frustration (not to mention the release granted by the sexual gymnastics he practiced on Ginny at night), but he knew that this increase in muscle mass wasn’t _just_ due to his regular exercise and Dursley-trained eating habits. Of course, _one_ part of him had remained the same, but his body seemed to have grown to match it.

He had not been inclined to complain though – until today. He realized he had just had sex with his _girlfriend’s mom_ – it had hit him with full force when he woke up at the crack of dawn in Ron’s room; he had retreated to Ron’s room after an hour-long session with Ginny that left the redhead girl tired, but sated. And the thing was – he wasn’t guilty. At all. And that disturbed him. Moreover, he _reveled_ in the feeling of conquest, almost like he enjoyed being submerged in a sea of ceaseless violence and rough sex.

And the alarming part was his sudden realization that he truly wanted that sort of life – he just _knew_ , deep inside, that should another battle fall upon him, he would revel in that as well, bathing himself in violence. But for some reason, he kept putting off his quest to find a way secret the Elder Wand away from him.

He looked down at his girlfriend from his broom, who was engaged in conversation with her brother on the ground, and sighed. He really loved her, but he had also loved pounding her gorgeous, buxom mother silly, and he knew what he _could_ do to stop that (throw away the Elder Wand), but he didn’t want to. He did not want the status quo to change. And that should have troubled him, but it did not.

***

Ron walked around the Burrow in a daze. He knew Harry had not come to the room last night. And he thought he knew why – but Ginny had disabused him of his notion. Harry had not slept with _Ginny_ , as Ron had thought he did, but with _Molly Weasley_. His _mom_.

Ron curled his palm into a fist and pounded against the wall of his dad’s garage, which he had leaning on. He knew that his dad had a peculiar fetish, and he hadn’t really thought about it before. And now that he did think about it, the thought of his mother with a stranger was infinitely better than the thought of his mother with his best friend…

Ron paused in his stream of thought. Or at least, that is exactly what he would have thought. What he _should_ have thought. But did he truly think that?

Involuntarily, he thought of the shared showers in the Quidditch locker rooms. Unlike the dorms, which had curtained showers, the locker rooms pretty much had open showers with opaque glass barriers separating them on two sides and a wall on the third. But the entrance to each booth had always been curtain free. And Ron did not have any qualms about that.

As such, he had seen Harry’s… stuff… in the showers. He knew Oliver Wood had made constant fun of Harry for _that_ – his own brothers had joined in often as well ( _“H. J. P? You think it stands for Harry James Potter? Ha! More like Holy Jumbo Penis”,_ Ron thought with a cringe). But despite the jokes, the catcalling, he knew that each of them been intimidated by it too; Dean had once joked to Ron that poor Michael only got to Cho after Harry – Dean said he himself would never touch a woman that had been around _that_.

And the thought of that _thing_ being inside his own mom… Ron shuddered. He didn’t even want to think about that. And yet he could not stop thinking about it. He should be thinking about Hermione – he had received her owl today and she was coming back the next day – who had said she would visit the Burrow as soon as she arrived. She was happy and had finally reconciled with her forgiving parents and they were all planning to settle back in England.

And yet, the thought of Harry niggled and chipped away at his mind. And Ron had no idea why.

***

Harry dismounted from the broom, landing in a graceful sweep. Ginny smiled at him, held out his hand and asked, “Please?”

“Cute,” Harry said playfully, “Very, very cute. But I don’t know about all these... _demands_. A man’s broom is his _life_.”

“Says the boy who broke a _Nimbus 2000_ and then a _Firebolt_ ,” Ginny said, and then laughed as she grabbed the broom right out of his hands. She laughed and took into the air.

Harry just smiled at her fast retreating back as she zoomed into the air in a steep curve. He then entered the Weasley home, famished. He had come back from the gym and taken straight to the air, with no snacks in between and with so much on his mind. He was now beginning to feel the pangs of hunger - it soothed him in a way, reminding him of his humanity.

The Weasleys had refurbished their home after the loss of the Burrow in the war. While the house was still as dilapidated as ever, the inside was surprisingly chic and modern – he supposed Arthur could afford better builders this time around to charm the inside of his house. Harry knew there were several wards that lent themselves well to space expansion and maintenance, and the Weasley house used them well. The hall was massive now – the staircase to the upper floors was in a corner right next to the door. The sitting area sprawled out before him with classy leather sofas gathered around a silver screen – a WWW product and Fred’s last gift to the world: the wizarding equivalent of a television set. George, with a significant portion of Harry’s wealth, had begun churning out television sets by the dozen and told Harry they were in great demand at the moment – even shipping out as far away as the United States.

The sitting area led to a dining area, which sat atop a slightly elevated platform. A long, ornate dining table sat there, with at least twenty chairs, although it could seat up to forty. Harry had to marvel at the magic that went into making the area this large. And even beyond the dining area was a posh kitchen and Molly’s favorite part of the house. It sat beyond a wide kitchen separation wall, or as Molly called it – a “kitchen counter” - lined with granite. It was a refreshingly open set up, and all of the stoves and basins were stacked neatly within the kitchen area. The people sat at the dining table could see Molly bustle around beyond the separation, which only reached up to waist height, and Molly could see them in turn. It was open and relaxed, as opposed to the cluttered, cramped set-up the Weasleys had before.

He saw nobody in the hall or the dining area – Arthur had gone to work and Ron was off wandering around the grounds ( _probably pining after Hermione_ , Harry thought). He wondered where Molly was, but then he shrugged and entered the kitchen.

And he was greeted with a fabulous view. Molly Weasley was bent over, her magnificent, wide ass on display ( _that arse has to be at least 50 inches across_ , Harry marveled), and her head was inside a stove, probably inspecting something she had left to bake. Harry really tried not to stare, but he had been inside that gorgeous thing, and it was now hard to _not_ stare at it. He remembered palming and hugging and nipping at that luscious behind. He felt his member hardening and he _knew_ that would be hard to hide, so he quickly turned around and cleared his throat. Molly’s head snapped up to look at him and she smiled.

Harry grinned at her – he knew he wasn’t supposed to, but involuntary thoughts of “ _Oh yeah, I tapped that_ ” were swimming through his head. So he kept his mouth shut and nodded at her as he walked towards the cupboard where Molly usually kept light snacks.

Truth be told, he was surprised at how indifferent Molly and Arthur were to the whole incident last night. It was as if they were separate people – a depraved couple inside the bedroom and loving parents outside of it. He was astonished at how they could switch personas at ease. At the same time, there was a bounce to Arthur’s steps in the morning (which Harry could not fathom – how could a man _do_ that and feel even _happier_?) and Molly kept shooting him these sultry smiles when nobody was looking. He knew right then that it had not been a one-time thing – he _would_ be invited into their marital bed again and they would love it. And the disturbing thing was – he totally wanted it. He _wanted_ to assert his dominance over Molly, _tame_ her and make her husband a _vassal_ and…

Harry shook his head as he tip-toed around Molly, deliberately not glancing at her and focusing solely on the cupboard. And just as he had reached out a hand to grasp the handle, he felt a hand grope his semi-hard penis.

He looked down in surprise and saw a delicate hand holding his shaft in a surprisingly strong grip through his loose track pants, squeezing it ever so pleasantly. The hand belonged ( _of course_ , Harry thought with an internal sigh) to Molly Weasley.

The woman was looking up at him with heavy-lidded eyes as she stepped closer to him, her breasts pressing against his left arm. And then with both hands, she was _tugging_ at his clothed penis, as if trying to _will_ it to come to life by desperate wringing.

“Did you think you could boss me around last night and get away with it?” Molly asked, her voice husky and low, “Did you think the Weasley Matriarch was so easy to tame?”

Harry groaned as Molly bent down and pulled his trousers off along with his underwear, leaving him completely naked from the waist down. She then lifted up his hardening organ with both hands and tugged again. She was pulling him, making him step over his pants and in the direction she desired, as if his cock were a leash. She led him over to the kitchen counter.

She then turned him around to face her, so that the kitchen counter, the dining area and the sitting area were all off to their side. Anyone who looked would think they were just having a casual conversation face to face, but that was only because the waist-high counter prevented them from seeing Molly Weasley’s hands frantically beating off Harry’s cock.

“You like that, hm?” Molly asked idly, her voice still smooth and oh-so-sultry, as she jerked him off, tugging and pulling at his penis with her arms outstretched, “You like your best friend’s mom jerking off your big cock while your girlfriend’s outside, don’t you, you naughty boy?”

Her hands were whipping back and forth now – they felt wonderfully soft running over his shaft – and Harry groaned at the immensely pleasant friction. And just as his penis rose to full mast and stood ramrod straight, something inside him – rebellious and vicious and vengeful – rose up. His magic thrummed and his eyes blazed.

He grinned. His hands, which were hanging useless by his sides, now grasped Molly’s face in an iron grip and pulled her towards him. He bent down and caught her lips in a searing kiss. He mauled her insides with his tongue and pulled off with a slurp. Molly was looking completely befuddled as she kept jerking him off like a clueless automaton.

Harry then let go of her face and then spanked her ass with both hands. He palmed them, even as she continued to stroke him and pulled her closer, groping and pulling her cheeks this way and that.

Molly let go of his shaft with a yelp as she felt him pull her towards him, with his mitts mauling her ass, and brought her hands up to his chest. She meant to push away and reassert dominance, but all she ended up doing was run her hands helplessly over his bulging pectorals, hard as stone, but so _hot_ to the touch.

He pulled her flush against him, her massive tits mashing into his chest, as her back arched ever so slightly backward and she looked up at him with a blissful expression. And then their lips met in another searing kiss. She moaned into his mouth as he squeezed her ass particularly hard.

“Merlin,” he said as they pulled apart for breath, with her still squashed up against him, “I can’t stop feeling up your fantastic arse, Molly! I mean, your tits are equally great… but this ass… holy _shit_!”

Molly grinned at him and said, “You’re a naughty one, aren’t you?”

“Oh, incredibly so, Molly,” Harry said shamelessly as his fingers dug into her endlessly cushy ass.

And they kissed again, slobbering tongues meeting and twining together. And then, after a solid minute of French kissing, they drew apart, with Molly gasping for breath. She looked down and smiled. Harry’s massive piece of meat was sandwiched right between Harry’s rock-hard abdomen and her lush tummy, pressing into her very snugly. And it was so _huge_ , even turned upwards, that the enormous cockhead was snuggled between her smushed-up breasts.

“It’s peering at me,” she said, and giggled.

“What?” Harry asked, completely puzzled.

“Your trouser snake has an eye,” Molly said, still looking down and giggling, “And it’s staring at me!”

Harry laughed as well, and then groaned as Molly started moving up and down on her toes against him, his cock snuggling in and out of her cleavage, which was still mashed against own chest. He let her do so for a whole minute, and then stopped her in her tracks – this teasing could go on forever, and he would love it, but Ginny _or_ Ron could walk in at any minute and he needed to stop.

Not that he wanted to, in any case. So he did what any red-blooded male would do – he pulled Molly apart enough to slide her robes over her head. And just as she took them off, he surreptitiously drew out the Elder Wand and anchored a _Confundus_ Charm to the dining table – anyone who drew close to them would now be confounded, and hopefully, so confused they wouldn’t quite notice Harry banging his girlfriend’s mom. Or maybe they would... and he just could not bring himself to care. 

Harry snapped his eyes back to Molly, who had shrugged off her robes. Underneath, she was wearing a shirt and a pair of underpants. She made as if to take of the shirt, but Harry grabbed her hands.

“Keep the shirt on,” he said, “But take off your bloody pants.”

“Impatient, aren’t we?” Molly said naughtily, as she complied and shrugged off her pants.

And she had barely stepped out of her pants, when Harry grabbed and slapped her now naked ass again, groping them even harder this time around as he pulled her to meet him in another one of his _amazing_ kisses. He angled down – for a moment, Molly gasped as she felt his cockhead come in contact with her dripping pussy ( _Morgana, she was so turned on right now_ ), but it pushed against her clitoris and slipped right past between her thighs.

“Merlin!” Molly gasped, as Harry drew her flush against him again. She reached a hand out behind her and felt Harry’s massive cockhead extending even beyond her ass as her thighs sandwiched his meat. “I feel like I’m sitting on a _log_ , you brute!”

“Well,” Harry said lightly, “You seem to like it. I can feel you dripping all over my log, you horny cow.”

Molly squeeze her thighs tightly around his cock and rose up again to kiss him, both of her hands now rising up to clutch his face, but Harry jerked his face back.

“Now,” he said, “I’m going to see if I can tame this horny cow.”

Molly’s pussy was gushing over his cock now and her nipples were rock hard, albeit crushed by Harry’s obsidian chest.

“Stick out your tongue,” he commanded, his breath hot and fresh on her face. She flushed and obeyed, sticking out her tongue as far as it could go. And Harry dove in – his lips coiled around her tongue and he sucked on it, his own tongue licking and lapping around hers. Molly moaned loudly and she felt her cunt throb – she had never had someone humiliate her in this fashion before. She supposed they were quite a sight – both half naked from the waist down, grinding into each other with his massive shaft sandwiched by her thighs, rubbing up against her own drooling pussy.

And then he started moving, still suckling on her tongue, in short sharp strokes with his balls slapping against her thighs as his massive shaft rubbed deliciously against her cunt. If she thought the feeling of his hot, throbbing cock simply resting against her vagina was pleasant before, the feeling of that blazing, pulsating shaft scrape against her swollen clit as it jerked back and forth was absolutely divine. Her folds were now completely and utterly agape, _hugging_ his shaft as it pushed in and out past them at a rapid rhythm.

“Your thighs feel divine, Molly,” Harry gasped, taking his mouth off her tongue for now, “My log loves the feel of your fat fucking thighs.”

Molly merely gaped at him – he was moving at an impossible pace now, his penis just stabbing back and forth against her pussy as he palmed her fat ass to his heart’s content. His balls were slapping hard and fast against her thighs now as his cock mashed back and forth and the _clap-clap-clap_ sound echoed throughout the entrance hall.

The Weasley Matriarch was so horny right now. “Harry,” she managed, in between flashes of pleasure, “Please…”

“Please what?” Harry taunted, still grinding effortlessly against her.

“Please…” Molly said and gasped as Harry smashed against her thighs particularly hard, his balls flapping dirtily against her milky flesh, “ _Fuck_!”

She had meant it as an exclamation, but Harry seemed to interpret it as a request and with a few choice words – “Looks like the cow has been tamed!” he taunted – he pulled her off, turned her towards the kitchen counter and _pushed_ her against it.

“Spread your legs,” he commanded, and Molly complied. She leaned against the kitchen separator and stood with her legs wide apart, or at least as wide apart as she could manage under the circumstances. Her legs were quivering with pleasure and she knew she was approaching a massive orgasm. _And Id idn’t even know I could have orgasms like this till last night_ , she thought.

A glob of juice dripped down her pussy and plopped upon the ground, making her blush as she realised how painfully aroused she was. _Arthur never managed to make me this wet_ , Molly thought, _Oh, boy, is he going to love it when I tell him about how Harry pleasured me in my own kitchen tonight._

Harry grabbed a hold of his shaft and _smacked_ it against Molly’s dribbling vagina. She squealed in surprise. _The brute,_ she thought, for she could barely speak, _he’s going to ruin me_. Harry merely laughed and continued to lay hard smacks right against her vagina with his fuckmeat, and each one felt more amazing than the last as it slammed right onto her over-sensitive clit, over and over again. At around the tenth smack, she could barely take it and came, violently.

Her pussy quivered, fluttered and _squirted_ , for the _fourth_ time in her entire life. Jets of cum hosed right out of her vagina, spewing all over the kitchen floor she worked so hard to keep clean. And the brute behind her was just standing there and laughing.

And even as she was squirting, she felt a massive dome part her folds once more. “NO!” she screamed as she thought, _I’m not ready! No!_

She slammed a fist against the counter and gritted her teeth as she let out a muffled scream. She did not know it was possible to feel even _more_ pleasure at this moment, but apparently, she _could_. Because Harry sheathed himself inside her in one bestial thrust and she ascended to _another_ high, even as she rode out her orgasm. Flashes of color appeared at the edge of her vision and she dimly remembered that she was standing right in the kitchen where everyone could see her being fucked like a whore. But she no longer cared – she was _floating_ , dreaming, even as a massive cock speared in and out of her tight orifice, hitting places she did not even know _existed_. Her insides - her fat, fucking, cheating insides - were moulding themselves to his superior cockmeat.

“Hnnnnnnnnnnngh!” Molly continued to scream through her gritted teeth as she kept squirting and quivering and massaging Harry’s shaft, which were practically pounding her mercilessly _into_ the counter.

And that was when Ginny entered the room with Harry’s Nimbus clutched in her hand.

***

Ron was still moving in a daze, circling the Burrow, trying to sort out his confusing feelings about Harry and his mother and his own insecurities about it all.

And so, as he neared the window that looked into the kitchen of the Burrow, his flow of confused, flurried thoughts stopped abruptly when he heard his mother’s voice float out through the window. “Harry,” his mom was _moaning_ , and his ears immediately perked up, his mind clouding up with foreboding, “Please…”

He _knew_ he should not peek. He _knew_ he should not be witness to this. He knew he should not have wanted to witness this. But as if puppeteered by invisible strings, he walked briskly over to the window, and peeked around the edge of the sill. And gasped softly at the sight.

Right next to the kitchen counter were Harry and his Mom, facing each other with fiercely passionate gazes. They were naked from the waist down. And Ron gulped as he saw just what was spearing between his mother’s meaty thighs. A massive, purpling cockhead rushed _under_ and then _out_ of the biggest ass Ron had ever seen, glistening with what he could only assume to be his mom’s arousal. His best friend's hands were practically _sinking_ into his mother's quaking assflesh, as the enormous fuckmeat jerked back and forth, making his mother moan like a horny _whore_.

In a haze, Ron watched as Harry turned his mother around, pushed her up against the kitchen counter like she was a piece of luggage, and started _slapping_ her twat with his massive meat. And then his eyes nearly bugged out when his mom started _squirting_ all over the place. Ron didn’t care anymore; he poked his head right into the window – his mom and best friend were too occupied to even notice. The stimulation was too much – he unzipped his jeans, still in a daze. His penis popped out – _far, far smaller than Harry’s monster_ , he noticed with a pang – and he started rubbing it furiously at the sight of his best friend making his mother cum.

And even before his mother had _finished_ squirting, Harry just slammed his shaft into her pussy like he _owned_ it. His mom’s ass was rippling in the light of the day ( _it was broad daylight!_ _The nerve of them!_ Ron thought incredulously, not even noticing the fact that he himself was masturbating outside in the same broad daylight) as his best friend sawed his throbbing cock in and out of her tight cunt. His mother was screaming – Ron had _never_ heard her screaming like _that_ before.

And then everyone just froze as _Ginny_ , of all people, walked into the room. The window was diagonally behind Harry and his mom, so he couldn’t quite make out their expressions, but he imagined they were as stupefied as he was.

Ginny just walked casually up to the kitchen – in the meantime, he saw Harry blindly grope for the snack cupboard behind him (without even _moving_ out of his mother’s cunt, which, even now _drooled_ over his cock. Harry quickly opened the drawer and grabbed a snack.

Ginny had reached the counter. “Hey, Harry, Mum,” she said brightly.

Ron ducked a bit behind the sill, but he still peeked around it. He gaped at Ginny’s utter cluelessness – she had _told_ him about Harry and his mom, she had been troubled about it, and here she was, just chatting casually with them as Harry’s enormous fuckstick was buried deep in his mom’s blubbering twat.

“Hey, Ginny,” Harry said brightly. Ron gaped at him – he had no idea how Harry managed to maintain his composure in _that_ position. Harry casually unwrapped the snack – it was a chocolate frog - and happily munched upon it.

He noticed that his Mom’s cheek (both her face _and_ her arse) was utterly red, like she was suppressing a scream.

“Ooh,” Ginny chirped, “Can I have one of those too?”

Harry just shrugged, pulled his wand out from his shift sleeve, and floated one over from the open cupboard to Ginny.

“Thanks!” Ginny said, “I’ll just go put the broom up in the shed – is that okay?”

“You sure?” Harry asked, as he started moving his hips casually back and forth. Ron didn’t think he could be any more shocked this day, but he was proved wrong and he started hyperventilating as Harry started grinding in and out of his mom’s still quivering twat. The woman herself was clenching her fists tightly as she was shoved lightly back and forth; and she was looking straight down at… a _book_. _She’s pretending to read a book on the counter,_ Ron thought incredulously, and his fist started vigorously rubbing at his own penis again.

 _C’mon, Gin_ , Ron thought as he masturbated furiously, _They’re rutting like beasts right in front of you! Catch them! Harry’s fucking buried in our mother’s dripping twat! He’s spearing her hot, wet tunnel with his enormous thing! He’s fucking her in front of you! He's claiming her cunt, he's taking it away from Dad! He's going to fucking own her, destroy her twat...  
_

“Yeah,” Ginny said, “It’s no bother.” Then his sister shrugged and proceeded to walk right out, munching on her chocolate frog.

 _Bloody fucking hell_ , Ron thought, _This is unreal!_

And just as Ginny cleared the hallway, Harry seemed to explode into motion. He dropped the chocolate frog onto the floor and slammed his hand right onto his mother’s right ass-cheek, which was in Ron’s field of vision, leaving a red handprint on the jiggling flesh. His mother bent her head further down and let out a close-mouthed scream. And she just didn’t stop screaming. Harry was practically jackhammering into her at a pace Ron couldn’t match with his _hand_.

“You loved that, didn’t you?” Harry taunted her, “Rutting your daughter’s boyfriend right in _front_ of her? Seducing him with your amazing arse and your tight twat?”

Molly Weasley just kept screaming, unable to vocalize her thoughts, perhaps not even _thinking_ at the moment.

 _Why is mom such a slut!_ Ron thought as he started tugging furiously at his penis. He was getting so close now. And his head was fully in view of the window now. If only Harry and Molly were to turn their heads, they’d see Ron jerking off his four-inch pecker shamelessly at the sight of his mom being pounded to mush by his best friend.

Harry then shifted his grip abruptly, clutching at her shoulders with his hands, and increased his speed, pounding into the _slut_ ( _Mom is such a slut, mom is such a slut_ – was the refrain running through Ron’s head) at an impossible pace, Harry’s heavy balls slapping back and forth wildly and his cum-coated shaft plunging through her folds effortlessly. With a start, Ron realized that his mom was _still cumming_ – he could hear her pussy _sloshing_ as Harry slammed into her.

And then Harry stopped and buried himself deep into Molly Weasley’s vagina, as if he was digging for treasure with his _cock_ deep inside his mother’s womb. Ron’s mom was screaming openly now, as Harry let out a series of low moans. _He’s cumming inside her_ , Ron realized. And then, something inside Ron’s head snapped and he wasn’t looking at Harry pounding his mom’s huge arse anymore.

Instead, he saw Harry pounding into a tiny, but perky ass, practically _dominating_ a slim girl underneath him with his massive shaft just tearing apart an impossibly tiny pussy. Bushy brown hair lay sprawled forward on the kitchen counter, as opposed to Molly Weasley’s auburn wavy tresses, as the girl being pounded by Harry’s enormous veiny penis started screaming and blubbering…

_Oh fuck, Hermione!_

That was the trigger for him and Ron just let out several spurts of semen as he orgasmed right onto the wall outside the kitchen just as Harry seemed to empty himself in the twat he was spearing.

And then, Harry pulled out with a loud _pop_. His shaft was gleaming with fluids from both of their bodies and Harry just flopped it down casually atop Molly Weasley’s red, glowing butt. Harry used his mom's ass-cleavage as if it were a towel as he  _wiped_ his cum off on her plump rear. Ron came to his senses with a daze and gaped at the size of Harry’s penis that had settled right over his mom's fat booty – _how had that even fit inside_?

Harry bent down and laid a fond kiss upon Molly’s back as she blubbered over the book lying on the counter, still trying to come down from the prolonged orgasm she had just had. Ron quickly zipped himself up and started walking briskly away from the house, away from it all… he wanted to sort out what he had just felt, what he had just done… _oh Merlin, what had he done?_

But just as Ron half-walked, half-ran from the house, he heard Harry say, “You know I’ll be around, babe.”

 _And that’s the problem_ , Ron thought.

***

 


	4. Warrior, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _A/N and Sort-of Disclaimer: Just want to make it absolutely clear that this IS PWP. There's no point to this fanfiction, apart from release. It's a male-centric fantasy - which means it has little to do with realism and everything to do with moronic horniness - and nothing more, so please don't take it too seriously._
> 
> _***_

“You know I’m not going away forever, right?” Harry asked Ginny, gently squeezing her hand.

He had announced at dinner this evening that he had decided to accept the Gringotts internship offer. It was a fantastic opportunity and Gringotts had never before made an offer to a mere Hogwarts student before, or so he heard from everyone around him. Granted, he _had_ beaten a Dark Lord, so he supposed he had earned it, but it was still quite an honor.

But deep inside, he knew that wasn’t the real reason he was taking up the internship. He knew that while he was very happy at the Burrow ( _very happy indeed_ ), he was getting restless. The amazing sex alone just wasn’t cutting it for him. He hungered for more. He knew that was mainly the Elder Wand speaking to him, but he saw no reason to refuse the impulse. He had momentum going for him now and he was loath to abandon it.

And he had barely even used the Deathstick, resorting mainly to his original wand – he knew practically anyone (including Xenophilius and Luna, who visited often) could spot the Elder Wand and know it for what it was. Not to mention Ron… and Hermione (who popped in and out of the Burrow with a skip in her step because she had reconciled with her parents – she stayed at her folks’ place though), who could identify it in an instant. So he had kept it hidden; however, the longer he held onto the wand, the more it influenced him. The more it _whispered_ to him – of secrets, of spells, of powerful magic long since lost to man. He had recently found that he could practically _think_ and just _will_ the wand to disappear into the ether and then summon it at will, just drawing it out of thin air.

And there were many more secrets to unravel. He needed to work away from those that knew him well, at least for a while, and this Gringotts internship was a fantastic opportunity. He did know that Bill and Fleur still worked at Gringotts, but Fleur was still on her maternity leave and Bill did not know him well enough to know he was slowly changing.

“I know you’re not going away forever,” Ginny said, and sighed, “But I just… you vanished during that horrible war! I didn’t see you for a year, and now you tell me you’re going away again.”

She bowed her head and looked at the ground sadly, her warm, brown eyes glimmering with tears. Harry gently raised her chin up and looked into those warm eyes. “Ginny,” he said softly, “We have a lifetime together. And this is the opportunity of a lifetime. We’ve had _months_ of vacation after the Battle. It’s been a year and I feel restless… like I’m doing absolutely nothing with my life.”

“I…” Ginny said, and swiped at her eyes, “It’s just… promise… I don’t… I feel like you’re leaving me behind.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “If this is about your mom…,” he started.

Ginny’s eyes flashed up at him. “No!” Ginny said, “No, no. That’s not it at all. I know you don’t really love her, not like… me.”

 _But I love the sex_ , Harry thought guiltily, _and I’m growing quite fond of my Molly_.

“And even if you _did_ ,” Ginny continued, “I don’t care – I know you’ve got enough space in that big dumb heart for me.”

“Ginny,” Harry said earnestly, “You’ve got a space no one else can ever hold.”

“I know,” Ginny said playfully, “I believe you made that quite clear last night.”

Harry blushed. _And there’s the part I’m going to miss_ , Harry thought. He had made love to Ginny in practically every part of the house. He hadn’t really even touched Molly since that time they had sex in the kitchen, nearly a week ago. In fact, Hermione had returned the next day and in her watchful presence, there had only been a few glances and gropes (mostly Molly groping _him_ rather than the other way around), but nothing really physical. Ginny, on the other hand…

And there had been another issue – Ron. Ron was behaving very, very weirdly. Ginny confessed to him that she had confided in Ron about the whole thing with Molly and Arthur, so Harry had expected an angry confrontation. But strangely, Ron was looking at him, not with anger or disgust, but with… awe? It was very, very weird – the last time he had seen Ron like this was during the World Cup when he saw Viktor Krum.

He had also noticed Ron and Ginny arguing with each other quite a bit. Ron and Ginny had always sort of been at odds with each other over _her_ love life, but Harry didn’t think their arguments were about the same topic this time around. Not that he never could ever get a straight answer from either of them when he asked them what they were arguing about. Ron just looked away, or tried to distract him with Quidditch or chess, while Ginny just shushed him and told him he might find out later.

So at the end of the day, he supposed there were more reasons to leave and learn something new, than to stay and relax. But he still had to reassure Ginny.

So he leaned in to capture her lips with a kiss, conveying all of his feelings through that single gesture. And then she got into his lap and he smiled.

Oh he loved reassuring her in this fashion. Although, she probably loved _being reassured_ even more.

***

Harry checked and re-checked his bag – he would only be carrying the most basic provisions as per his instructions from Gringotts. Apparently, he was going on a field trip – a bunch of French Aurors were leading an expedition into the Alps to recover an as-of-yet undisclosed artifact. Bill Weasley and Harry were the only English members that were part of the team. Harry had no idea why he – an intern – was chosen to go with the team, but he guessed Bill had had something to do with that. His welcome pack had also informed him that the field trip was expected to be a walk in the park; it was only expected to last five days and all provisions would be arranged by Gringotts.

As such, Harry had the Invisibility Cloak and several sets of clothes and toiletries stuffed into a satchel, assisted by an expansion charm. Of course, he also had access to the Elder Wand, apart from his own phoenix feather wand. He was getting quite proficient at drawing it out of thin air and willing it to disappear after all the practicing he did in the isolation of the orchard near the Burrow.

He had already said his goodbyes to Arthur and Molly. He was in the sitting area alongside Ginny, waiting for her eldest brother to arrive and portkey him to what would serve as Headquarters for the next week or so. He was puzzled at the fact that Ron and Hermione hadn’t come down to see him off – he knew he had told them he was leaving today.

As if on cue, Ginny leaned over and said, “Harry, Ron said you should meet him upstairs before you go. He’s had something on his mind for weeks, and he just wants to settle it with you.”

Harry checked his watch – he had only around three-quarters of an hour before Bill was scheduled to arrive and he did not want to keep Bill waiting. At the same time, he was really curious about Ron’s behavior and wanted to know what was bothering the man.

And in any case, he could never really refuse his best friend, so he shrugged, smiled at Ginny and climbed up the stairs to the top floor of the Burrow. Strangely enough, Ginny gave him the strangest smile as he left – she had looked incredibly smug before, but he knew that was because he had shagged her rotten the previous night. But _this_ smile was different from her previous smug expression. This was the sort of smile she used to give him back in his Gryffindor seeker days ( _soon to return_ , or so he hoped, since Hogwarts was going to reopen in a few months) when she told him to “go get that Snitch.”

 _Weird_.

***

“Ron,” Hermione said in a worried voice, “I’m _really_ not sure about this.”

Ron was laying soft kisses down her neck and was running his arms up and down her sides. He was acting very frisky and she did not understand it. She and Ron had become sexually active even before she left for Australia. Of course, now that the frenzy caused by the war was over, she was a bit torn on whether they would last as a couple, but she thought that with perseverance and understanding, they could surely work it out.

Lately though, they had been having problems. Their love life had never really blown her socks off – not since the day she had lost her virginity anyway – but she wasn’t really unhappy about their sex life, as infrequent as it was. Ever since she had returned, however, Ron had been acting really strange. He had never really lasted beyond ten or fifteen minutes, but she had always figured with practice, he would get better and they could make the long, sweet love she had always dreamed off. Recently, however, Ron would just get a faraway look in his eye when they initiated sex and he would blow practically as soon as she touched him.

And that was getting her incredibly frustrated. She tried to get him to focus, to masturbate before they did stuff (which did work, but even more frustratingly, he just wouldn’t get hard for _hours_ after he finished) and eventually, had asked him exactly what got him so turned on before she had even begun.

Ron kept stalling, but a week ago, he had broken down and told her that he had this _fantasy_.

She had laughed at it, but then he just didn’t stop going on about it. And that got _her_ intrigued as well. She asked him what had triggered this whole fantasy, but Ron remained tight-lipped about it, only asking her if she was willing. And then begging and pleading.

And on the last day, just before the object of Ron’s fantasy was about to leave, she had accepted. Ron had rushed out, then rushed back into the room and said it would only take a few minutes.

Hermione gulped. Even if she had accepted Ron’s weird request, she hadn’t really expected things to fall into place so fast. But if it got Ron off… but she _did_ think it was strange, considering how the very same thought that was now spurring him on had previously caused him to storm out when they were hunting for Horcruxes. Hermione shuddered. She didn’t even want to go there. And if Ron had gotten over it, so had she.

And Ron was so turned on – he hadn’t shown this much passion, since… _ever_. Ever since she had relented, Ron had been kissing her, hugging her and showering her with affection. And that made Hermione feel _sexy_ – an emotion she rarely experienced.

“Please…” Ron gasped, letting go of her, “Please stand up.”

Hermione stood up and smiled sultrily at Ron.

“I want you ready for him,” Ron said, “Please…”

Hermione shrugged and took off her shirt and jeans, posing in front of Ron in her lingerie. She saw the tent in Ron’s trousers and smirked. She then took off her bra and panties with swift moves. She wasn’t quite aroused yet, but she supposed she could give her boyfriend a show. She spread her hands out on each side and tilted her hip to one side, posing in front of Ron.

And that was the scene to which Harry Potter walked in as he burst into Ron’s room.

***

 _Well_ , Harry thought wryly, _there’s something you don’t see every day_.

Hermione Granger completely naked, her hands spread out on either side. Harry gaped, and then closed his eyes – but he knew he wasn’t likely to forget the sight anytime soon. He started walking backwards out of the room, crying out, “Sorry guys, didn’t mean to walk in on _this_!”

But then the door slammed shut behind him. He opened his eyes with a start and saw that Ron had his wand out and pointed to the door. The lanky redhead then lowered his wand and leaned further back on his single bed.

Hermione was posing in between the two single beds in the room. Harry looked between Ron and Hermione, completely confused by this turn of events. Ron was staring at him expectantly, as if waiting for him to make a move, and Hermione _still_ had her hands spread out, though she was looking down and biting her lips oh-so-sexily.

And then it all _clicked_.

Harry’s eyes snapped to Ron’s. “You sure about this?” Harry asked sharply.

Ron nodded, though he did gulp a bit.

Harry _crowed_ inwardly. _Holy crap, this is the perfect send-off gift_ , Harry thought happily, _Thank you, Ginny!_

Everything made sense now – Ron’s behavior since Ginny told him about Harry and his mom, Hermione’s catty comments during the past week, the constant arguments Ron, Hermione and Ginny had when they thought they were out of Harry’s earshot. _It all_ _comes together_.

 _Ron’s just like his dear old father_ , Harry thought wryly as his magic sang and thrummed around him. _Not that he was complaining_.

The room blurred in his vision – Ron, the beds, the Chudley Cannons posters, the Martin Miggs comics… they all fell away as Hermione sharpened into focus. As he gazed upon her glorious form, Harry felt like he _needed_ this woman. He _wanted_ her.

He had always thought Hermione was an incredibly beautiful woman. In many ways, she was the complete physical opposite of Molly (and Ginny). She was incredibly petite as opposed to the voluptuous bodies of the Weasley women. She had incredibly perky breasts, but they weren’t even _close_ to the enormous milkbags that Molly or Ginny possessed (though Ginny was at least a cup size smaller than her mother). Hermione had a very pretty ass – toned and bubbly – but again, not quite the fat, wide assmeat that Molly and Ginny lugged around.

“Hermione,” Harry said, “ _Look at me_.”

She obeyed, albeit very, very hesitantly. _Oh,_ Harry thought, _I’m going to ruin her_.

Even Hermione’s beautiful _flower_ was different. Where Molly and Ginny had _folds_ – amazing flaps that seemed to hug him as he speared their quivering cunts – Hermione had _lips_ – shy, taut, soft rims that quivered with nervous energy. Even with Hermione’s legs closed, Harry could make out that her vagina would be _incredibly_ tight. His eyes rove down her toned, surprisingly athletic legs and then snapped up again to her face.

 _And that’s what truly sets her apart_ , Harry thought _, she’s… beautiful_.

Indeed, Hermione possibly had the prettiest face in his year at Hogwarts - with perhaps just Parvati for competition. She could stand next to Fleur and not feel even a _bit_ lesser. A cute nose. Wide, warm eyes. Thin lips that he knew looked amazing when she bit down on her quill pondering over her homework. A delicate, fragile chin. High cheekbones. _God, she’s incredible_. _And Ron’s a moron for letting this fall into my hands_.

And with that condescending thought, Harry just surged forward, dropping off an article of his clothing with each step, losing his boxers last just as he pressed his lips onto a very surprised Hermione. She yelped into his mouth in surprise as he grabbed her ass, lifted her ( _she’s so light!_ ) and pushed her into the wall between the beds, right onto a Chudley Cannon’s poster.

***

Hermione gasped as Harry _pinched_ her arse with both hands and simply lifted her into the air like she weighed _nothing_. She barely even had time to take in that godlike figure ( _when had Harry gotten so hot?_ ) before he closed in on her lips and his tongue was practically dueling hers. She grabbed onto his upper arms, her heart fluttering as she gripped his massive biceps, feeling the muscles ripple underneath.

 _God, he can kiss_ , she thought as his tongue thoroughly violated her mouth, her own tongue surrendering meekly as _his_ swirled around _hers_. And then Harry’s hands, still on her arse, squeezed and she moaned into his mouth again. Harry pushed up at her ass and her mouth pulled off his. She gasped at the intensity of his kiss and at the abrupt manner in which it had been cut off. She just rose and _rose_ into the air by the strength of his hands, like a goddess being worshiped by her god. Dimly, she registered her boyfriend in the background furiously masturbating at the sight of her being dominated by Harry, but she didn’t particularly care. She just wanted those incredible lips on her again.

And then she gasped as she felt her suck briefly at her nipple, before pushing her even higher up against the wall. And just as she was high enough for her legs to be draped over his shoulders, his face right in her muff, she knew exactly what Harry was going for.

 _Ron and I never got around to trying that_ , she thought idly.

“A pity I’ve barely got an hour Hermione,” Harry growled at her, cutting off her line of thought, and she shuddered at his husky voice in the vicinity of her aroused pussy, “I could this pussy for _hours_.”

Hermione shuddered again. “Unfortunately,” Harry continued in the same intense voice, “I’m going to have to speed this up.”

And then, without warning, he dove right in. Hermione let out a squeak as he just slammed his tongue right down her pussy ( _it’s so long!_ ) and _curled_ this way and that, like it was searching for something important. She moaned at the ceiling, her back still supported by the wall as his tongue dug around her insides – and then it landed on…

“Oh, oh, oh, OH OHHHHHH!” Hermione screamed as his tongue landed on _that_ spot. And she gaped down at Harry’s head and _gushed_ at the sight of his messy black hair just buried into her snatch. It looked like he was lapping hungrily at a delicate chalice, his hands grabbing her ass and plunging her cunt onto her mouth… and it felt _incredible_. And that was when his tongue started vibrating.

Hermione curled her fingers into his messy hair ( _god, she loved running her fingers through it_ ) and she _writhed_ in pleasure, her eyes closed and she felt something _incredible_ build up. Her vagina was gushing fluid now and judging by the sound Harry was making, she was _wet_. She had never been this wet before and then, she saw spots as her entire body spasmed and shuddered and quivered.

 _Oh my God_ , Hermione thought as her vision blurred and she leaned forward off the wall, her fingers digging into Harry’s skull, _I’m having an orgasm. I’m… having… an… orgasm. My first… orgasm._

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!” Hermione screamed, her eyes tearing up. She hadn’t known pleasure like this even _existed_.

She dimly registered Harry slowly bringing her down and she eventually felt her rump settle down on a cylindrical bar. She squirmed against the bar, rubbing back and forth as Harry just _looked_ at her. Despite herself, she forced her eyes wide open and looked back at him

And all she saw was admiration and awe. He was looking at her moving in the throes of passion like she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and she _moaned_ at him as she squirmed even harder on the fat rod he had set her down on ( _What am I sitting on anyway,_ Hermione thought). Her inner walls kept shuddering periodically as she slowly ground herself down – her clitoris was throbbing as it rubbed so pleasurably against her seat and her cunt was _leaking_ onto the ground.

“Liked that, did we?” Harry asked softly.

“I…” Hermione gasped, “I think… ovaries… exploded.”

Harry choked out a laugh in surprise and she smiled weakly at him, still grinding herself down. She arched her back as she strove to come down from her high and her nipples stood stiff and proud on her perky tits.

“Need… more,” she gasped, “ _Please_.”

Harry obliged. And he grabbed her ass again and lifted. She felt the massive pole she had been sitting on shift and curl up against her throbbing cunt. Harry bent backward and then _pushed_ up. And just as the curvy, dome of the mysterious bar pushed into her gushing pussy, squashing her clitoris and starting up her orgasm again, she realized what she had been sitting on all this time.

 _No way,_ she thought, _that’s his… his thing?_ She actually hadn’t seen Harry’s penis yet – he had tackled her to the wall before she even got a good _look_ at him.

She was pressed into the wall now; her toes were entire _inches_ off the ground – had been, for quite some time, since Harry got his hands on her arse – and her hands were pressed against the wall. Her legs were spread wide on either side, branching out into an upside-down “V”. And Harry’s cock was trying desperately to push into her miniscule twat that was leaking fluids down his enormous shaft – pussy juices that then dribbled all the way down and eventually rolling off his massive balls onto the ground. Hermione realized with a start that apart from Ron’s tiny pecker, nothing else had been up there. She had been far too timid to even _try_ getting herself off before.

And then she looked down at Harry’s rod and just gaped stupidly. It was _enormous_ – just going on and on from her quivering cunt to Harry midriff, at the end of that amazing V-shaped cut that jutted around his incredibly defined abs. _It’s like a muscly arrow_ , she thought with a giggle, _saying, “Here comes the wife-tamer!”_

And then he _pushed_ some more. “Fuck!” Harry swore, “You’re so _tight_!”

“No,” Hermione choked, and swore right back, “You’re fucking _big_.”

Harry laughed. “You shouldn’t swear, Hermione,” he said and then _jerked_ forward just as Hermione floundered for a retort and she screamed again as his enormous head burst into her tiny twat, stretching it like it had never been stretched before.

And then, slowly, centimeter by centimeter, to Harry’s incredible frustration, his shaft sank into her tight love tunnel. It was _gushing_ obscenely, fluids still dripping down his shaft. And if he thought Ginny’s insides hugged him so tightly when he made love to her, Hermione’s walls were practically trying to _choke_ his dick until it drowned in a squirming, writhing, _wet_ pit of ecstasy.

And after nearly five minutes of _pushing_ and _writhing_ and _panting_ and _groaning_ , there was still an inch of Harry’s penis still to go. Harry couldn’t take it anymore – his brain, both the one in his head and the _other_ one in his _other_ head (nestled safely in the depths of Hermione’s impossibly tight cunt) were screaming at him to just slam into her – and he just gave one last titanic push. Hermione _slammed_ into his hips and her mouth opened in a silent scream as she turned her face heavenwards in pleasure. She was sitting on his balls now, which were throbbing against her pert bottom.

Now, buried completely in her pussy, Harry tried to move, but he found that her vagina was holding his penis in a vice-grip. He literally pulled her down with him as he tried to pull out and Hermione _whined_.

“Your cunt is less elastic than I thought, Hermione,” Harry observed.

A spot of drool dribbled down Hermione’s wide open mouth. She couldn’t scream, she couldn’t speak, she could moan. She was caught in a frozen moment filled with immense pleasure – she had never really come down from her first orgasm, and as Harry jerked back and forth, jerking _her_ back and forth in turn, her quim fluttered around his _enormous_ shaft and she just went from orgasm to orgasm – or perhaps it was one giant orgasm, just moving between highs and lows.

“What do you think is the modulus of elasticity of your twat, Little Miss Know-It-All?” Harry taunted, remember the Transfiguration class where McGonagall had taught them how to transfigure metals to plastics.

Hermione groaned and finally managed to speak, as Harry kept moving, apparently trying to _unscrew_ his cock out of her grip as he twisted back and forth, stretching and twining her incredibly wet walls around his fat cock. “Don’t… fucking… care,” she grunted.

Harry let out a barking laugh. Then he lifted her _off_ the wall and slammed her into the bed on her right. Somewhere, at the back of her mind, in a part that was sealed away the moment this encounter had started, Hermione observed that Ron would have an incredible view of Harry’s fat cock buried in her cunt with his massive balls throbbing right under her quim.

***

Harry thought Hermione looked _incredible_ , her gorgeous face flushed and her lovely lips open in a silent scream as she shuddered around his penis. Her walls were practically _spasming_ around his cock – tremors seemed to rock every inch of her body as he desperately tried to move back and forth within her.

Her back was arched and her perfect little nipples were straining against her perfect little breasts, begging for attention. He cupped both of them, squeezed and a high-pitched squeal finally escaped her open mouth. _If he had it his way_ , Harry thought, _he would keep her on this orgasmic high forever_.

“Little Miss _Perfect_ ,” he reflected, “You truly _are_ perfect.”

But time was running out and Harry wasn’t in the mood for _more_ of _this_ incredible sight – at this rate, he could happily keep working over Hermione for _ages_ , but he didn’t have the time.

“Sorry, love,” Harry whispered to Hermione as her glazed eyes _pleaded_ with him, “I’d love to just stay like this forever. But I’m afraid I’m going to have to _move_.”

He gripped her tiny waist from both sides and rooted himself, planting his legs even further apart. This had the additional effect of pushing Hermione’s legs, which were on either side of his waist, even further apart, giving him some room to move.

And then Harry started _moving_.

***

Ron’s thighs and bed were spattered with his own semen, but he didn’t care. He had started cumming when Harry had started spearing that massive thing up his girlfriend’s tight cunt. And while normally, Ron took hours to recover from such an incredible orgasm, the sight of Harry trying to _move_ while embedded deep in his girl’s pussy had got him hard again.

And then Harry had pulled Hermione off the wall and thrown her onto the bed like a ragdoll, still buried in her pussy. And just like Ron’s mom, Hermione was _gushing_ and _shuddering_. Ron had _never_ seen her like this before. She was a beautiful wanton _angel_ now, her frazzled hair spread out on the bed as she gazed up with such _adoring_ eyes at Harry, squirming around his humongous shaft.

Unfortunately, Harry had thrown Hermione onto the bed opposite Ron, and Ron didn’t have a clear view of the action now. He was nearing his _second_ orgasm and _needed_ to see this. So he got up and moved down the aisle to the foot of the bed, gazing at the sexed up couple from the side. Ron was bent over pathetically, rubbing up and down his prick, panting as his knees shook with the force of his oncoming orgasm.

And it _was_ an incredible sight. Harry was virtually tearing Hermione’s pussy walls apart as he grunted and moved up and down, but Hermione just wasn’t letting that enormous cockmeat go. Her pussy was gushing out juices as she writhed on the bed in heat, her mouth open and her unseeing eyes staring in Harry’s direction. Her hands were clawing at the bed and her legs were up in the air, toes curling and uncurling in pleasure.

Suddenly, Harry moved his hands from where he had been mauling Hermione’s tits, down to either side of her waist. And he _gripped_ it firmly. And then started to _move_.

Harry grunted and _pulled_ and Hermione moved with him – only, Harry’s hands stopped her downward motion in its tracks. His veins were bulging out and muscles seemed to grow upon his muscles as his shaft _scraped_ out of her gushing twat. “AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!” Hermione screamed.

And then, just as her scream petered out into a moan and Harry’s penis, now shimmering with Hermione’s apparently endless supply of cunt-juice, was almost out of her quim, he _slammed_ back, _brutally_. Hermione’s scream rose to a fervent pitch again. Ron was beating himself off furiously now as Harry started pulling out slowly and then slamming back in rapidly several times over. He gulped as he saw Hermione’s trim abdomen _swell_ as Harry pushed in – almost like a tight glove swells when you squeeze your fingers in – and then _contract_ as Harry teased out. He could practically see the cylindrical swell of Harry’s cock reshape her inner walls as he plowed in and then allow them to try and regain their former tightness as he pulled out. Hermione’s scream was one continuous, long whine now – growing suddenly in pitch as he smashed into her hips and then steadily decreasing in pitch as he retreated.

And then, even as he started increasing the pace, Harry took his hands off Hermione’s hips momentarily, grabbed her legs and pushed them up and around his front so that her legs were pointing up at the ceiling, resting on either side of his head along his chest, giving him unfettered access to her pussy.

Then with his hands right around the base of her thighs, Harry truly started _fucking_ her. He started smashing in and out of her, rapidly increasing his pace to a fever pitch and Hermione just _screamed_ and _screamed_. Her eyes, which had previously been glazed, were now actually rolling up into the back of her skull and her breasts were swinging back and forth wildly. Harry _pulverized_ her pussy – it was like his cock was tearing apart her walls and rebuilding them anew to forever fit his (and _only_ his) enormous meat. Ron heard, rather than saw, the _smack-smack-smack_ of his enormous testicles slapping against Hermione’s tight arse.

“Look at the virgin of Gryffindor!” Harry taunted as he pounded in and out of her, “Nothing but a _slut_ begging for _cock!_ ”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHHHH!” Hermione continued to scream, spittle flying out of her mouth and foam spouting at her lips.

“The Golden Girl!” Harry taunted again, “McGonagalls favorite little helper! Look at you!”

The sheets actually _tore_ as Hermione scraped at them, her hands… her entire _body_ writhing in the grip of a pleasure that Ron had _never_ seen on her before.

 _It sounds like he’s scraping against wet sandpaper_ , Ron thought as he neared his release, _Her tight cunt will never be tight again. He’s destroying it! Harry’s destroying my girl’s tight cunt!_ Ron’s pace grew faster and faster as he neared completion.

And as if echoing his thoughts, Hermione screamed, “NNNNNN…. MY CUNT! FUCK MY CUNT! NEVER… SAME… AGAIN… _FUCK_!”

“Almost there, babe,” Harry said serenely as he plopped his penis out with a mighty pull. It popped out with a loud _plop_ and her lips _clinging_ to it as if her twat just didn’t want to let its new owner go.

Harry let go of her legs as he retreated. She continued to moan and shudder and Ron saw with a start that an _enormous_ puddle had accumulated on the bed underneath her. She was sweating and cumming and it was all mixing underneath her – Ron would forever remember that bed as the place where Harry had conquered Ron’s first girlfriend. Hermione’s legs flopped uselessly to the ground. And she was _still_ cumming – she was lost to the world. Harry stepped around Hermione, still rubbing his shaft ( _fuck,_ Ron thought _, even his own hand doesn’t fit around his shaft_ ). And as Ron gaped and jerked off at the foot of the bed where his best friend had thoroughly shagged his girlfriend, Harry skipped onto the bed, planted his legs on either side of Hermione and _knelt_ over her, while not quite sitting down atop her. His massive balls plopped onto her tummy as Harry sandwiched his cock in her cleavage. He then reached down with both hands behind her head and _pulled_ her face upward, which had been lying down and flushing beautifully with the force of her orgasm, so that his massive head pushed right between her lips.

Harry was _feeding_ his cock to her, literally stuffing his cock down her mouth. In her orgasmic haze, Hermione still managed to take his massive purple crown into her mouth – she couldn’t seem to fight anymore and the rest of Harry’s shaft still lay outside down her throat, between her cleavage and right up to her stomach - but she wasn’t cognizant enough to actually give it any attention. Ron couldn’t take it anymore – incredibly, he came for the second time that evening, within _minutes_ of his previous orgasm. Drops of semen leaked out of his cock, spreading over his own fist.

And then, Harry _spurted_. His balls, which were sitting all the way down on his tummy, _pulsed_ and just continued to _pulse_. And his shaft seemed to recoil like a cannon several times as he fired what seemed to be _liters_ of his cum down Hermione’s mouth. She could not swallow, still in a daze, and gurgled; streams of his cum foamed at her mouth and dribbled down her chin.

After nearly an entire minute and a half, where Harry just grunted and fed Hermione his sperm, he finally popped his cockhead out of Hermione’s mouth and slapped it twice against her chin to shake any remaining semen off. He briskly stood up and then methodically put on his clothes, one piece after the other.

Ron collapsed onto the bed beside Hermione, panting like he’d run a marathon. She was literally blubbering out Harry’s sperm as she lay there, dazed and still feeling her orgasm wind down.

“Bye, guys,” Harry said brightly, “Guess I have to go. Ron, tell Hermione this was just a sampler. If you want, I’ll give her the real deal after I come back.”

And then Harry checked his watch, nodded to himself, then _winked_ at both of them and stalked out of the room, singing a jaunty tune.

And as Ron started snoring beside his thoroughly satisfied girlfriend, he only had one refrain running through his head – _I want an encore_.

***

_Two months later_

Harry was trudging through a meadow. He knew it looked absolutely beautiful and the grass looked absolutely beautiful in the cold blue light of early dawn, just before the sun had peeks over the horizon. And yet, he was _trudging_ as opposed to _hiking_ because he felt that the term “hiking” was something a happy person would use.

And he knew the tall, red-haired curse-breaker walking next to him felt exactly the same way. Bill Weasley had apparently promised his family that he’d be home for Christmas Dinner after a five-day mission with Gringotts and so had Harry. Only, the five-day mission had turned to a week and then a month. And now, it was two months.

Apparently, a bunch of French Ministry officials had decided that they would get their hands on an age-old heirloom that belonged to their country. It had been stolen from them by Voldemort to ally the giants with him. So, as part of an attempt to make peace with the French (for the French blamed the British since the Dark Lord actually _was_ the British Ministry for nearly a year), the British Minister of Magic had offered to assist in their search for this stolen heirloom. Only, the French had outright refused ( _because politicking_ , Harry thought tiredly) and Gringotts had intervened, saying that they would be happy to provide one of their best Cursebreakers for the mission, who was incidentally English. The French agreed because Gringotts was a popular third-party organization and the British Ministry was appeased because Gringotts was offering an Englishman up for the mission (along with their famous Boy-Who-Lived, albeit as an intern) and Gringotts was happy, because they were being paid by both the French and the English. Thus, this entire dog-and-pony show had begun.

And it was supposed to be a simple mission – the French Ministry had received word that this heirloom was at Riddle Manor; a team of five French Aurors as well as Bill, with Harry’s help would comb the house and break any wards or curses that still persevered. And then everyone would pose for a photograph and bold headlines would be published on either side of the Channel that declared that a contingent of French Aurors had recovered an age-old heirloom with the help of two British nationals, one of whom was quite famous. And everyone would be happy.

And so they had burst into Riddle Manor, combed it for five days, then for a week. And they had found nothing. Oh, they had discovered wards and curses and Harry had learned a lot by watching Bill break those down. But at the end of the day, the heirloom was still missing.

And so, they had skipped Christmas, and then New Year, and here they were, in the middle of February, on this globe-trotting adventure, still going around in search of the heirloom.

Although, while the whole thing caused no end of frustration to Harry (the kind of adventure he craved – the one with battle - was just not there), he supposed it did score as a win - primarily because, while Bill had taught him a lot about breaking down wards and setting them up, Harry had discovered something even more spectacular.

There had been plenty of opportunities for experimenting with the Elder Wand. Harry’s head swam at the number of European magical villages and cities they had been around. He was truly touring the magical world now, and it was spectacular. But that wasn’t even the best part – while the French Aurors walked around, knocking down doors, asking questions, persuading informants with galleons and searching desperately for their national heirloom, Harry had been busy seeing what the ancient wand could teach him.

And teach him, it did. One day, as he was practicing his Occlumency exercises and clearing his mind, when he felt an insistent poking against his senses and he knew it was the Deathstick. So he opened his mind to the sensation and traced it back to the wand; the flurry of images had startled him. The Deathstick did not quite speak to him so much as it showed him. The Elder Wand had memories – that was its greatest secret and Harry felt privileged to have discovered it. He knew every wand had a memory – Ollivander had implied that much in that gloomy cell at Malfoy Manor. But the Elder Wand was so powerful that it remembered so much more. Spells, charms, curses – they just played themselves out in his mind and he just knew what to do. And so, he and the Elder Wand had begun to form a bond, where it taught him by showing him deep and ancient magic, and he practiced whenever he found time, which was often.

Not that he was not interacting with the team. The French Aurors did not have much to teach him by way of defensive or offensive magic (not as much as the Elder Wand anyway), but they did teach him other things – the most valuable being spell creation. For the first time, Harry was truly, instinctively, understanding how spells are _created_ , how they could be modified and extended and altered.

At the same time, the blood pounded in his head as his wand chastised him for not _using_ any of the awe-inspiring knowledge it gave him on battle magic. He had blasted plenty of conjured dummies apart on isolated moors, but where was the real blood he needed to grow? Where was the thrill?

And somewhere in the back of his mind, Harry knew he shouldn’t think this way, he _wouldn’t_ have thought this way only a year ago. Yet, here he was.

“Uh, Harry,” Bill said, interrupting his flow of thoughts as they converged on a small hillock in the middle of the meadow they were trudging across. Apparently, the French Aurors knew _pour sûr_ that this was the place the heirloom was stored ( _yeah,_ Harry thought snidely, _they’ve said that before_ ). “You thought about that… stuff we talked about?”

Harry sighed. _Yeah_ , he thought, _that’s a great topic to bring up just as they were converging on their objective_. “Are you _sure_ you’ve cleared it with Ginny?” Harry asked.

Bill just looked askance at him and said, “Of course I have. I _told_ you I sent her a letter and subtly asked her about it. She replied with an oblique yes.”

Truth be told, Ginny’s acceptance or rejection didn’t even bother him anymore. Apparently, Ron had confided in George about the whole thing with Harry and Molly (although, Ron did send him a letter saying he hadn’t said a word about him and Hermione to anyone and wanted to keep it that way) and George had told Bill. And now, according to Bill, every Weasley male knew Harry had jumped into bed with their mother once ( _or twice_ , Harry thought, _though the Weasleys didn’t know that_ ). _Great_.

And the weird part was - they didn’t care. There were no confrontations, which went against everything Harry had known, or thought he had known, about the Weasleys. And worse, Ron and Bill had asked him to _do_ their significant other.

And Bill was _married_. Granted, Harry supposed he should’ve thought that about Molly and Arthur, but at least the Weasley parents had been married for _decades_ before doing this sort of stuff. Bill had a _quarter_ - _veela_ hanging onto his arms for maybe three years at best, and he was already pushing her at Harry. This was all wrong. And Harry, even a year ago, would have run far, far away from this.

And _that_ was what niggled at him, though even that niggling guilt was dying now. Harry knew he would bang Fleur in an instant ( _god, she was so hot_ ), so the nonchalance he showed Bill was mostly just a veil – he was being moral for the sake of being moral and keeping up appearances in polite company.

But now, he didn’t want to think about that because he was stuck on a boring mission. And thinking about Bill’s incredibly hot wife would lead to thoughts of sex and then, of thoughts of other associated emotions and then he would be frustrated all over again. So he concentrated on the hillock – not so small now that they were practically twenty feet away from its base – that was glowing ethereal and blue-green in the false sunlight just before dawn.

They had chosen to walk in, as opposed to fly in on brooms, because they needed to check for traps and curses. That had been a waste though, because there had been no traps or curses of any sort. However, their primary concern had not been dark wizards or wards, but the possibility of meeting _giants_. For the meadow and the hillock as well as the surrounding forests and mountains were part of a large sanctuary established in the 1100s by the ICW for _giants_. This was the stomping ground of giants, which was absolutely worrisome.

The heirloom they were searching for was an ancient chalice – a giant’s chalice, rumored to give any giant that drank water from it strength equal to that of ten giants. It had been created long, long ago by a French witch whose name was lost to time for her giant husband (Harry just _had_ to smirk at that possibility) and it had immediately been confiscated by the Gaul elders at the time. Ever since then, the giants had tried to get their hands on this artifact and now, it was rumored to be sitting right in the middle of their territory. _Oh Riddle_ , Harry thought, _How appropriate of you to put the artifact the giants want right in the middle of them and then withhold it from them. Your hubris was indeed incredible_.

And now that they had approached the hillock, Harry truly felt it. The hillock was, strangely enough, a mountain of hard, bare stone – a massive dome with no apparent entrance. It was perfectly smooth and Harry knew this was no natural hill formed by corrosion and quakes; this had been _forged_ by someone for hiding something truly remarkable. And Harry could _feel_ the powerful magic reverberating around the place. They had felt it even from a hundred feet out – Bill told him it was the scent of a failed _Fidelius_ Charm that Bill thought had fallen into decay _months_ ago when Harry had defeated Voldemort. And they had approached it at a fortunate time – any earlier and the _Fidelius_ would still have been too strong for them to breach it.

They had now drawn right up to the enormous stone construct – it must have been at least a hundred feet high and Harry couldn’t even tell how wide it was. One of the aurors sent a spell at the construct and the spell bounced back with a clang. “It’s hollow,” breathed one of the aurors as she gazed upon the stone hill with wonder, “It’s a chamber.”

Bill, who had bent down to inspect the base of the hill said, “And it’s not dug in. It’s practically sitting on the ground. I reckon we might be able to lift it with a team of a few dozen wizards and simple levitation charms.”

Harry gaped. The enormous hill was basically a giant lid purportedly concealing the chalice, like a butler covering up a dish on a serving tray with a platter dome. _Magic-users are so weird_ , Harry thought. And then it hit him. “A team of several dozen wizards and levitation charms,” Harry said, touching the cold, smooth surface of the dome, “Or _ten_ _giants_ with their bare hands. Like in the legend.”

One of the French aurors - a woman with long, black hair that was bunched into braids - laughed. “ _Oui_ ,” she chortled, “Appropriate.”

And that was when they heard the sound they had all feared ( _and craved_ , Harry thought guiltily). _Boom boom boom_. The thudding sound of enormous footfalls on the ground. They all turned in a flash and gazed into the gloom, which was rapidly falling away as the sun rose. At least five hundred feet away from them was the dark line of the forest that bordered the meadow. Rising out of the forest were enormous shapes that loomed large in the light of rising dawn. Harry tried to count the shapes, but before he could even get to the third silhouette, one of the French aurors shrieked, “It’s a whole _tribe_!”

 _Oh crap_ , Harry thought. Dimly, he remembered a Binns lecture on how a giant tribe consisted of at least sixty individuals. And Harry’s heart _thumped_ into his chest in rhythm with the footfalls of the enormous shadows lurking in the distance, fast approaching their position.

And just as the sun rose over the horizon, orange light washing away the blue, Harry truly saw them. They were at least twenty feet tall each and there were _dozens_ of them all sprinting full tilt with enormous clubs straight at the dome. Straight at _them_.

The giants had arrived to reclaim their heirloom.

***


	5. Warrior, Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a cliche here, with Gabrielle's not-quite-nine thing, but roll with it.

_France, two weeks before Harry Potter met the giants_

Gabrielle Delacour was immensely disappointed with herself. She prided herself on being the best daughter she could be, the best student she could be and the level of control she exerted over her demeanor at all times. Where her sister was fierce and passionate, she was calm and controlled. Where her sister was swept away by short-lived romantic affairs, she had never been distracted from her education.

That said, Gabrielle did think the world of her sister and she knew her sister loved her too. Gabrielle could not help but think, though, that her sister had spent most of her teenage years living a tumultuous life that went from high to low and relationship to relationship. That is, of course, until her sister left school and met a handsome older man – a curse breaker at Gringotts – and just _decided_ to get hitched. Gabrielle thought herself _above_ such whimsical desires.

Gabrielle knew control and discipline – she had always been a quiet, calm little child. She was prone to childish fancies, of course, but that did not mean she did not know how to hold herself back. The need for control had been drilled into her since childhood.

 _Then_ , Gabrielle thought, _why am I so unable to master such simple magic?_

“ _Maman_ ,” she said crossly in French, “Why can't I do this?”

Her grandmother tutted and her mother merely smiled at her. Gabrielle gritted her teeth at that.

“Try, again,” her grandmother commanded.

And Gabrielle tried. She closed her eyes, scrunched up her face and concentrated. She tried to _focus_ like they wanted her to and tried to _draw_ the warm feeling of the whizzing _aura_ that whipped around her, drew it in and _willed_ it to change shape.

After ten minutes of desperately trying to reel in her aura into the shape that she wanted, Gabrielle just gave up and opened her eyes. Her grandmother sighed and the two women in front of her got up.

“Let us call it a day,” Apolline said mildly. “No,” Gabrielle said, “I shall keep trying until I get this.”

***

_Somewhere in Germany, two weeks before Harry Potter met the giants_

“Wait… what?” Harry asked Bill as they both took a rest from breaking down the ward on an erstwhile Death Eater safe-house in a ruined cottage.

“Veela basically clone themselves to breed pure,” Bill said patiently, “They are capable of just _forcing_ their eggs to grow into a fetus.”

Harry scratched his head. “And you said half-veela retain this ability?”

Bill nodded. “Yeah,” he said, “Well, not quite. Only full veela are capable of giving birth to _other_ full veela through cloning. But both full and half-veela are capable of giving birth to full veela through cross-fertilization with other full or half-veela.”

“What? Cross-fertilization?”

“Yeah,” Bill said, making a sour face, “Fleur told me about it. Apparently, veela can _inject_ their genetic material into _other_ veela and fertilize _them_.”

Harry was confused. “Inject?” Harry repeated, and then asked, “Like… with a syringe?”

Bill shrugged. “Fleur just said veela are capable of growing some kind of protuberance that can inject stuff into other veela. They’re not injecting sperm or anything – just some kind of genetic material that fuses with the veela they inject it _into_.”

“And what about half-veela?” Harry prompted.

“Half-veela, like Fleur’s mom, are strange. Fleur told me that half-veela are capable of accessing both their veela sides and their human sides – although, neither side comes instinctively to them. They can clone themselves just like true veela, but they can also use magic, like normal witches. And they can cross-fertilize too.

“And if they cross-breed with true veela, the offspring is again, a true veela. It’s all very strange.”

“So… Gabrielle?” Harry asked, “She’s… what, exactly?”

“Oh, Gabrielle is basically the result of Apolline cloning herself. From what Fleur tells me, Apolline and Jean had quite a few arguments about having a second child. Jean put his foot down though, so Apolline got mad and just _willed_ one of her eggs to grow. So Gabrielle was born. When half-veela clone themselves, they give birth to half-veela too, since they’re basically just clones.”

“So Gabrielle is basically just Apolline’s clone?”

“Exactly.”

“But Fleur…”

“Is a true quarter-veela, which doesn’t really mean anything. Oh, Fleur does have a slight aura, but it’s nothing compared to Apolline or Gabrielle. And no weird protuberances or anything – perfectly feminine, Harry,” Bill said, waggling his eyebrows.

Harry just shook his head.

“So…” Bill said, but Harry stopped him. _I do NOT want to go there,_ Harry thought, _not the weird Weasley male thing again_.

“So Gabrielle is… how old, exactly?” Harry asked.

“She was actually born only two years after you were,” Bill replied. “Veela go through puberty a lot slower than we do, but when they do hit it, _boy_ do they hit it and _hard_.”

“Ten on ten, eh?” Harry asked with a grin.

“ _Eleven_ on ten,” Bill said with a mischievous smile, his scars growing prominent as his skin stretched around his face, “If she wasn’t my sister-in-law…”

Harry just grinned.

“Nah,” Bill said, “Who am I kidding? I can’t even handle Fleur, let alone a proper veela.”

“Half-veela,” Harry reminded him.

“No real difference,” Bill said, “Gabriella and Apolline are _both_ veela and human at once. They have the best of both worlds – the ability to work a wand and the ability to blow your socks off with that aura.”

“Work _your_ wand, eh?” Harry asked lasciviously.

“Oh, shut it,” Bill said, though his tone was mirthful.

“So does that mean your mother-in-law _and_ your sister-in-law _both_ turn into harpies whenever you annoy them?” Harry chided.

Bill shuddered. “Yeah, well,” Bill said, “That’s one of the abilities they have to _learn_. Apolline and Fleur’s _Grand-Mere_ – a full veela – are teaching Gabrielle how to transform.”

“So Beauxbatons is closed now?”

“Nah, the school is open – Apolline is the Charms Mistress.”

“I _bet_ she is.”

“You’re such a cad.”

Harry laughed.

“Anyway,” Bill continued, “Apolline and her mum are giving Gabrielle lessons on transformation after her classes every day. If you think Fleur turns people’s heads… wait till you see Gabrielle.”

Harry snickered. “Bet that doesn’t go over well with the wife,” Harry said.

“Which is why you’re tagging along next time,” Bill said.

 _Oh crap, we’re back to that topic again_.

And as if on cue, Bill asked Harry that stupid question again. Harry just sighed. _Stop asking me to bang your hot wife, you idiot_. _Because I totally will_.

***

_France, just as Harry encountered the giants_

“Gabrielle!” her grandmother’s melodious voice screeched at her, “Do it! Now!”

And then her grandmother slapped her across the face. Gabrielle flushed and scrunched up her face in concentration.

“The predator within you _begs_ to be unleashed!” her grandmother said, “But to _be_ unleashed, it must first be unchained by _emotion_. The most powerful being _anger_. Let your _anger_ flow!”

And then _Grand Mere_ slapped her again. Gabrielle gritted her teeth and her muscles tensed in anger.

***

Somewhere in a meadow in France, Harry met the giants

Harry gritted his teeth and his muscles tensed in _joy_.

 _Oh yes_ , he gloated, _exactly what I’ve been waiting for_.

The Elder Wand was _singing_ in his mind now, his heart pounding like a drum against his chest. Harry Potter was _elated_. The French Aurors threw out spells as they shrank against the wand, Bill tried to conjure a wall to halt the stampede of the giants, but Harry just grinned and got ready.

His magic _hummed_ and _sang_ and _hungered_.

***

Gabrielle’s aura sang a harmonious melody around her. She tried to _unleash_ it, concentrating her anger upon her magic, but _nothing_ happened. Her aura felt like it was _blocked_.

She felt her _Grand Mere_ slap her again – and tears fell down Gabrielle’s cheeks.

She wasn’t even getting angry now – she was feeling intimidated.

***

Harry zoned in on the largest of the giants, who was conveniently at the forefront of the pack charging at them. The giant wore an enormous wooden laurel on his head and was obviously the leader of the tribe.

 _Good_ , Harry thought, _you’re first_.

The giant, who had to be at least twenty seven feet tall, raised the massive club he was clutching into the air just as he got within sixty feet of them.

And that was when Harry decided to throw caution to the wind and charged _right_ _back_ at the giants.

***

Apolline Delacour watched with immense worry from the corner as her own mother slapped her daughter and tried to induce her to transform. Apolline herself had learned through just such a technique, and her mother was right – emotion _was_ the easiest way to try and unleash the aura, but something about this entire situation felt wrong.

 _This would have been so much easier if Fleur was a half-veela instead of Gabrielle_ , Apolline thought. Because Fleur had so much of the willful, stubborn, untamed stereotypical nature that Veela were usually painted with. Fleur was the apple of her husband’s eye – he bestowed every luxury upon her and had lavished her with attention ever since she was born.

Gabrielle, on the other hand, was something Jean had considered a mistake. He had been embarrassed when Gabrielle had been born; he had played no part in her conception, and while Jean had not been overly hostile to Gabrielle, he was always so dismissive when she was around. She was considered _Apolline’s_ daughter rather than _their_ daughter and Apolline knew Gabrielle had noticed such things.

As such, her youngest daughter had become meek, learning to draw _in_ her presence and keep herself out of sight. Unfortunately for Gabrielle, she was a half-veela, and there was only so much control one could exert over one’s natural attractiveness – not to mention the veela aura. Gabrielle had been a very beautiful girl and was now maturing into a remarkably beautiful half-veela.

However, Gabrielle had noticed how her aura drew attention and had taught herself to exert tight control over what part of it she could harness. And now, when Gabrielle needed to let go, her daughter found herself completely unable, after having exerted such control over her every emotion for so many years.

For the transformation was all about finding utter freedom – of letting your spirit go and surrendering yourself to your emotions. Tapping into your bestial self. And Gabrielle, bless her soul, was an extraordinary child in many ways – but she always thought about what others would think if she did this, what her father would notice if she did that and so on and so forth. She was a tightly wound ball that simply would not relax and just let go. Even when Gabrielle had fun, like at Fleur’s wedding, it was with such impeccable calm that Apolline almost wished Gabrielle would throw a tantrum or two every once in a while.

At the end of the day, Gabrielle Delacour simply did not know how to _let go_.

***

Bill had barely finished conjuring his wall when the giants were almost upon it. Painstakingly, Bill had started conjuring bricks, lacing them with sticking charms and them placing them above each other. Eventually the French aurors had caught on and tried to help him by conjuring enormous slabs of stone and placing them atop his own meager wall. And Bill knew it was a stupid strategy, but his mind was just frozen now.

He was a cursebreaker, not an auror. He belonged in tombs and catacombs, methodically breaking down complex wards and curses, not in situations like these, facing an entire giant tribe at once. And with a sinking heart, Bill realized that he was going to die. He was actually going to die – he did not see any way out of this. He stopped conjuring and just cowered.

And that was when he felt the air churn around him, as if buffeted by an enormous force.

The wind whipped about in frenzy and one of the French aurors shrieked. Bill looked up and felt a blanket of _power_ settle upon him. It rose and sang and hummed with _magic_. He followed the power to its source and saw that it was all concentrated on a single man.

Harry Potter stood alone, facing the giants, eyes blazing and back straight, with a grin on his face like he was dropping in on an amazing party. And then he _charged_.

“No!” Bill said, just as the French aurors screamed, “ _Non!_ ”

_Is he mad?_

Harry charged straight at the pathetic wall they had conjured to protect themselves against the giants and just _tore_ through it like paper. The wall crumpled as Harry charged straight through it. The giant at the forefront of the stampede – the biggest and meanest looking giant Bill had ever seen – was barely forty feet away.

And that was when Harry _flew_. At first, Bill thought he was leaping into the air, but Harry was actually _flying_ into the air in a steep arc. _Without a broom_. In an incredible parabolic arc, Harry rose into the sky like an avenging angel, his green eyes raging with a bloodlust Bill had never seen before and his face contorted into a wild smile. The giant stopped in his tracks and brought his enormous club down onto Harry, as if to swat him like a gnat, but Harry _whipped_ his wand around in mid-air and the club turned to dust.

 _Where did that wand even come from?_ _It practically popped out of thin air!_

And then he saw Harry clear the dust and reach the peak of his parabola, only to descend like stone, his feet pointing straight into the giant’s face. Bill heard a deafening _crack_ , like a tree had snapped, and the giant howled as Harry _smashed_ feet first into the giant’s nose.

_Holy shit. Harry just broke a giant’s nose by kicking him in the face._

***

Gabrielle’s concentration was slipping. She felt absolutely wretched. Her grandmother had once called this “incredibly simple stuff”, but she simply couldn’t seem to learn this. Gabrielle would be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t talented – she knew she was talented. She had perfect scores in her classes, had kept her aura under such tight control almost intuitively from an incredibly young age, had not had a bout of uncontrolled magic since she had been four (her last burst had broken her father’s favorite tea set with a burst of magic. _Oh the scolding her father had given her_ , Gabrielle thought). She had never been mad when her father had doted on Fleur and had never been put off when he was completely cold to her, as he always was – she had _taught_ herself not to be mad, for that way led despair.

And yet, she could not master this “incredibly simple stuff.” It was absolutely frustrating. And then she felt her _Grand Mere_ slap her again, which caught her off guard and Gabrielle yelped as more tears fell down her cheeks.

***

Harry grinned as he anchored a blasting charm to his feet with his wand and smashed the giant’s nose just as he landed. _I love anchoring charms,_ he thought happily as he _pushed_ off the giant, somersaulting backward into the air off the giant and landed gracefully on the ground after dropping more than twenty feet by casting the self-levitation charm he had practiced with the help of the Elder Wand.

The leader of the giants fell backwards in a graceful curve and landed satisfyingly on his back with a massive thump, shaking the ground. He was still howling and clutching at his nose. Harry retreated away from the giant’s legs, which were kicking out in pain, with a smile on his face.

And then he stood tall, looking at the sheer number of other giants that were attempting to swarm him. He grinned. He knew just the right spell for this occasion.

***

Gabrielle wished she could do this with a simple twirl of her wand and a single spell. But there was no right spell for veela magic.

For veela magic was _instinctive_. In her grandmother’s scathing words, “Humans have to _learn_ and then _learn_ some more – from books and tomes and stupid little words – to be able to cast controlled magic. But we have it _within_ our very bodies. We use it with each breath. Every male – be he giant or human turns to mush in its presence – our aura. And magic just _comes_ to us. It’s not something we seize and control, Gabby. It’s something we learn to _let go_.”

 _Let go,_ Gabrielle thought with frustration. She hated that phrase. Her sister was more the “ _let go_ ” sort of person. _Letting go_ to Gabrielle meant being the subject of her father’s glare, or being gazed at by lecherous slack-jawed men. _I will not let go_ , she thought sadly. _I cannot_.

***

Bill saw Harry just _look_ at the mass of _giants_ that were about to crush him in seconds, even as their leader writhed in pain in the middle of the battlefield. And yet, amidst his own terror at the situation, and concern for Harry, Bill truly recognized exactly _why_ Harry Potter was so famous.

He just had a _presence_ about him, even as he stood alone facing impossible odds with naught but a tiny wooden stick to defend himself. A presence that Bill knew he was enamored with – which was why he had asked Harry over and over again to stay at his place so that Harry could fulfill his strange request.

And then, Bill felt _cold_. It seemed like all of the warmth in the air was being _sucked_ out – but it wasn’t like the chill brought on by a dementor. This reeked of a different sort of magic; Bill was proved right as the air _shimmered_ around Harry and steam rose from the tip of his wand. Harry was actually drawing upon the warmth around him.

_How does he even know this sort of magic?_

And then, his wand blazed to life. A glowing, white-hot, spitting ball of fire and light sat in the palm of Harry’s hand, held in place by his wand. And it grew and _grew_ spitting out sparks and _pulsing_ in in the fierce blood-red light of early dawn.

Suddenly, Harry whipped his hands out to his sides, spreading them wide apart as if welcoming the oncoming party of giants and the ball _exploded_. It spread out in the shape of an enormous winged bird and the _melted_ down into a long, thin strip of fire on the ground that extended on either side of Harry for what seemed to be _acres_.

And as the rest of the giants were twenty feet away – and Bill dimly registered that their fallen leader was crawling _away_ from Harry, clutching at his nose and looking at the relatively tiny wizard with fearful eyes – Harry pushed his hands down and then threw them up again. The strip _blazed_ into an _enormous_ wall of fire, nearly one hundred feet tall and hundreds of feet wide, and Harry was its focal point – the source of its incredible power.

One of the French aurors had enough presence of mind to mount his broom and ascend to the sky. “The giants have stopped,” he told them happily, obviously looking over the wall, and then paused. “They’re just… waiting,” he then said, a tremor of fear shaking his voice.

“Brace yourself!” Bill heard Harry yell back at them. He obeyed – it never occurred to him to do anything else – and he noticed that the French did too. He hoped the man on the broom held on for dear life as well, because whatever was coming next would be _big_.

And he was right. There seemed to be a massive blast right behind them and a shockwave of compressed air seemed to _press_ outward. Bill and the aurors on the ground were _thrown_ forwards and the wave of air smashed into the wall of fire. The blazing flame fanned outwards, right at the giants.

 _Merlin!_ This was the sort of magic _legends_ were written about. And here was a boy of barely legal age, performing such feats like they were _nothing_.

 _Then again_ , Bill thought wryly, _he is the Slayer of Voldemort_.

“They’re retreating!” a voice said from above. Bill looked up and noted with a relieved sigh that the man on the broom hadn’t been pushed off by the force of Harry’s magic. “The giants are retreating!” the man said as he floated down to the ground quite happily.

Bill looked back at Harry and noticed that the air around him was beginning to settle down. Harry lowered his arms slowly and seemed to _breathe_ out. The wave of fire, still roaring outwards as it fanned over the meadow, seemed to just _fall_ to the ground and vanish. As the flame died, Bill finally saw the giants retreating back into the forest.

He couldn’t help it – a smile just sprouted on his face. _That had been certain death_ , Bill thought, _and they had come out of it with nary a scratch. Merlin’s balls, am I glad I insisted that Harry be an intern under my watch_.

***

“ _Maman_ ,” Apolline said at last from the corner, obviously not able to take the sight of her own daughter suffering in such a manner, “Please, enough of this. Anger is obviously not an emotion that comes naturally to her. Not like it came for me.”

The venerable veela – still beautiful in her seventies – just sighed and stopped. She held Gabrielle’s face in her hands and tenderly rubbed at her granddaughter’s cheeks.

“It’s okay, _Grand Mere_ ,” Gabrielle said, looking up into her grandmother’s worried eyes, “I know you didn’t really mean it.”

And then her grandmother just hugged her.

***

Harry extinguished the fire with a _breath_. His magic sang, the Elder Wand was flashing bright happy colors across his field of vision and Harry felt a fierce joy he had never felt before.

 _This was where he belonged_.

That had been an exhilarating experience. Letting out all that bottled frustration in a blaze of glorious, _powerful_ magic – it had been _incredible_.

And now, he was _horny_ as _hell_.

He turned around and walked briskly back to Bill. He willed the Elder Wand to disappear and surreptitiously took out his phoenix feather wand as he approached his dazed, but smiling team. The French Aurors were clutching at their hearts or just looking up at him in awe. And Bill was just smiling stupidly up at him.

Harry grinned right back and asked casually, “So, after we retrieve this chalice, we’re totally going back to your place, right?”

Bill opened and closed his mouth like a fish and Harry saw in his eyes that Bill knew what Harry was _really_ asking.

“Hell yes,” Bill rasped out.

 _God bless these moronic Weasley males_ , Harry thought as he turned to the dome and smashed a crack right through it with his wand. _No sense waiting around for a damn team of wizards to turn up. Let’s get this over with so I can go bang a quarter-veela_.

***

It was the Easter vacations right before the final exams for her penultimate year at school. Gabrielle just wanted to relax and study away from her mother and grandmother for a while – though she loved them with all her heart, she just didn’t want to be reminded of her continuing failure to transform as a veela _should_ be able to.

So, she had begged and pleaded with her father to let her go to Fleur’s and her father had assented, no doubt wanting to be rid of her. And so, she was at Shell Cottage, cooing over her niece, who was nearly a year old, and studying diligently. Bill was not around, and Gabrielle was thankful – she didn’t really like how Bill turned _stupid_ around her and just gaped like a moron. It reminded her that she could not _control_ parts of her own aura, and she _hated_ that.

So it was just them girls for a week and it was heavenly. Truth be told, Gabrielle was really surprised at how much Fleur had changed – her willful sister had finally learned to settle down and was actually succeeding at both her home life and her work. Fleur was also a wonderful mother to little Victoire. Fleur was learning _control_ and Gabrielle was _very_ surprised at that. _Maybe Fleur could give me some of that free-spirited nature so I can learn to “let go”,_ Gabrielle thought wryly.

Then she was told by Fleur that Bill was coming back and that soured her mood until Fleur told her that Bill was bringing _Harry Potter_ along, which perked her right back up. Of course, Fleur told Gabrielle that Bill would be home at midnight and Harry Potter would be home for dinner the next day.

And so here Gabrielle was, the day before Harry arrived, looking at herself in the mirror anxiously. She knew veela never had blemishes or a bad hair day, but she couldn’t help it. _Harry Potter_ was coming to Fleur’s house and he was _staying_. At least for two days, before he went back to the Burrow ( _and to that awfully pretty redhead_ , Gabrielle thought with a pang). She knew pining after him was absolutely stupid, but she couldn’t help her crush. And it was something she could control, so Gabrielle could live with it.

But she _had_ noticed how Fleur had told her about Harry coming over to stay with a nervous, hesitant smile on her face. And that had intrigued Gabrielle. She had wanted to press her sister on the subject, but Bill was about to arrive at midnight and Gabrielle had no desire to stay around the redhead for long.

However, she _did_ look forward to meeting Harry at dinner the next day. Nonetheless, Gabrielle thought it only polite to go wish Fleur’s husband as he arrived. She would bid him a good night and then retreat to her room as soon as she was able. So Gabrielle got up primly from her seat, smoothed the edge of her dress, and walked softly down to the sitting room to greet Fleur’s husband.

***

Bill and Harry emerged from the floo at roughly eleven o’clock, an hour before Bill had told Fleur he would be getting home by himself. Truth be told, Bill was a bit nervous.

Granted, he had been the one making the requests and asking Harry to do this all along, even writing to his sister in the process. Then, Harry had been nonchalant and Bill had _wanted_ to persuade him. Bill knew his young wife _craved_ adventure in bed. Yet Bill just could _not_ match her appetite – Fleur had had many lovers over the years and Bill had but one before her. So Bill had thought Harry the perfect candidate to sate his wife’s appetite – Harry was too young for his wife to love and already had a vested interest in remaining discreet about the encounter. Harry was trustworthy and open to such dalliances. And truth be told, Bill was _highly_ turned on at the thought of his smoking hot wife having a romp in bed with the handsome young man.

But now, Harry seemed _eager_. Bill had wanted him to come over to Shell Cottage the night after they captured the chalice and gave it back, but Harry _insisted_ he accompany Bill home the same night. And Bill couldn’t help but give his assent – he did not know _why_ this was the case… It just _was_. So they had a quick dinner at a restaurant in Paris, then took a series of portkeys all the way to London, and took the Floo back from the Ministry of Magic. Harry’s internship with Gringotts was officially over, but Bill knew he would have to go in the next day to file a report. Which was why _he_ had wanted to wait a day before Harry could come over.

And yet, Bill knew he _wanted_ this. He could not explain why, but he wanted to see this. His wife was _angelic_ and _beautiful_ and he wanted to see that beauty fulfill all of its _needs_. Bill was many things – brave, loyal, courageous, and adventurous – but he was sorely lacking in imagination. While it made him great as a methodical cursebreaker, it translated very poorly to their love-making sessions.

And he wanted to see just _why_ Harry had caused such a stir in the Burrow. He wanted his wife spoiled rotten, and judging by what Ron had told them, and judging by the _effort_ it took to convince Ginny to give her assent ( _he had written more letters to his sister in the past two months than in the past seven years)_ , Harry was an incredibly talented lover. And he knew he wanted to give his wife some of that.

He also knew it turned him on incredibly to imagine his beautiful, angelic wife doing… _that_ … with someone else.

And so they walked straight into Shell Cottage where Fleur was waiting in the corridor where the Floo was located.

Bill’s mouth just dropped open at the sight. _God_ , Bill thought _, she’s incredible_.

Her thick, blonde hair flowed down her head in waves, her thick, rich mane almost reaching her hips. Her blue eyes peered at him with such _warmth_ and _fire_. Her avian nose was perched perfectly in the center of her face anchoring her features along its delightful length. Her lips were pouty and yet so incredibly thin and Bill could _never_ figure out how she did that. Her face was so _fragile_ and _beautiful_.

And that wasn’t even the most incredible part. Below her slender neck hung a transparent netted nightgown, with an incredibly low cut neck and no sleeves, and it hugged every curve of her body down to her waist, ending _just_ where her ass met her long legs. She was wearing an opaque, lacy black bra underneath the transparent top and a _g-string_ right underneath, but that blocked little from the imagination. Her DD-sized cleavage seemed to go on forever outside the nightgown and Bill knew that if she turned around, her amazing ass would be perfectly visible, judging by the incredibly thin cut of her panties.

Fleur had wide hips – but they were nowhere near as wide as say, Hestia Jones in the Order. But her ass wasn’t amazing because of how _wide_ it was; it was amazing because of how much it bulged _out_ and still managed not to sag. And Bill had _no_ idea what to do with that supple ass – he always came within seconds of grinding against her and her ass bulged outward so much, his prick could barely reach into her starfish the one time they tried anal sex. Bill wasn’t opposed to trying that again, but Fleur had said it felt uncomfortable for her and that had been that.

Bill swept her into a hug in joy at remaining alive long enough to see her again. It was a chaste hug that conveyed all of his love and affection. And then, they let go.

“Well,” said a deep voice from behind Bill, “Does the hostess of Shell Cottage always greet her guests with such enthusiasm?”

Fleur squeaked in surprise and let go of Bill as if burnt. Bill blushed as Fleur tried to cover herself with her hands.

“Oh, no need to be shy, Fleur,” Harry said, as he opened his arms to her, as if expecting a hug.

Fleur looked helplessly at Bill. “I was wearing this for you,” she said, defensively, “I did not expect ‘Arry to do this today.”

Bill looked back at her equally helplessly and shrugged.

“Today, tomorrow,” Harry said lazily, “What’s the difference?”

Fleur looked at Harry incredulously, then back at Bill, searching in his eyes for _something_. Bill had no idea what to make of the situation – but then again, he _had_ assented to Harry accompanying him on his first night home after a long mission. Bill realized with a start that while Fleur had assented to allowing Harry into their bed for at least a night, she had wanted to greet him with full vigor, perhaps to reassure him that no matter how good Harry is in bed, their union shall last.

But Bill did not need reassurance. He knew Fleur had matured since her wild younger years. So he just nodded at her and gestured to Harry.

“I’m still waiting for that welcome hug,” Harry said, his arms still outstretched and a grin on his face.

Very, very hesitantly, Fleur stepped forward and tried to _lean_ into Harry’s hug so that the rest of her body would be as far away as possible from this man who was not her husband. But Harry had other plans. Just as Fleur leaned in, Harry took a step forward and _pulled_ the blonde woman into him.

Harry was wearing a tight cotton tee and a pair of nylon shorts that day. Bill had been surprised at the tourist-y outfit, but now, as he saw Harry hug his wife, he knew exactly why Harry had chosen that outfit.

One leg of his shorts was bulging outward and the enormous cylindrical shape of the bulge made it quite clear how massive he was. And as Fleur hugged him, Harry sidestepped just enough while still leaning in and his massive erection rubbed against the side of Fleur’s hips. Also, instead of hugging around her lower back, Harry just put his palms flat on her jutting ass and pinched and pulled at her cheeks.

Fleur pulled away in surprise, but Harry wouldn’t let her ass go. Bill felt himself harden as Harry just kept his wife in place, mauling her ass as she tried to pull away. Fleur withdrew her hands from Harry’s back, but as she discovered she couldn’t move because he wouldn’t stop groping, she dropped her hands helplessly to the side and tried to turn to Bill. Only, his massive erection was grinding against her side and her left hand dropped right on his shaft and she gasped in surprise.

“Mon Dieu!” she gasped as she stroked lightly down the enormous shaft she had landed on, bending sideways as she tried to find the end of that gargantuan thing. He kept palming her ass and her hands swept down over his shorts until she reached the down to his bulb somewhere in the vicinity of his knee. “You’re not… ‘ard,” she gasped, resting her palm on his dome with only his stretch shorts separating her skin from his shaft. He squeezed her ass cheeks particularly hard and she squealed.

“Oh, don’t worry, Fleur,” Harry said, “I assure you that’s something you can keep working on.”

“No,” Fleur said, gasping again as Harry went back to palming her ass, “Zat is not what I mean. I just…”

“You’re still holding onto it,” Harry said.

And Fleur’s palm rose off Harry’s head in an instant as if she had touched a burning hot dish she had been forbidden from tasting.

Harry laughed and let go off her ass; the cheeks jiggled right back out, flushing red from his vigorous mauling. Bill was incredibly hard right now. Fleur turned to face Bill, her face flushing in shame. She walked towards Bill and held his hand as if to reassure herself that he wasn’t mad as she drew beside him.

“I… did not mean to do zat,” Fleur said earnestly, looking up at him.

Bill just gaped, looked at his wife’s blushing face – Fleur was now looking straight down at the floor in shame - and then back at Harry who was staring shamelessly at Fleur’s ass. And then Harry swung his hand and his palm slammed onto Fleur’s arse with a loud _thwack_ ; both of her tightly packed cheeks jiggled amazingly with the force of his slap. Fleur squealed again and squeezed onto Bill’s hand.

“Show us to your sitting room, Bill,” Harry said.

Bill turned around and walked slowly towards the drawing room, not even daring to look behind him lest he ejaculate prematurely at the sight of Harry treating Bill’s wife as property. He was harder than he had ever been in his life. And with each step he and his wife took, he heard Harry slap his hands down on Fleur’s cushy cheeks and she kept squealing each time. Her hand was gripping onto his own almost painfully now.

By the time they finally reached his sitting room, Harry had laid at least a dozen smacks on Fleur’s ass. _The nerve of the guy_ , Bill thought incredulously getting harder than he thought possible, _just owning my wife’s arse right as she walks beside me!_

***

The Shell Cottage sitting room was basically a small living room that didn’t quite compare to the sprawling hall that the Weasleys had. The hearth by the side of the entrance corridor was blazing with fire. The room was brightly lit and contained a lush sofa that seated five facing the hearth. Around it were two single seat couches sitting perpendicular to the sofa on either side. Behind the single seater on the opposite side of the entrance corridor was an open archway that led to the kitchen as well as a staircase to the upper floor, where the bedrooms were.

And as Harry laid yet another _smack_ on his wife’s bountiful rump, Bill gulped and quickly swung his wand at the arch, casting a Silencing Charm over it. His wife had told him their sister-in-law was in the house; Bill did not know if he remembered to tell Harry about it. Bill had been hoping to keep this encounter discreet and confine it to their bedroom upstairs, safely ensconced in silencing charms and wards, but this situation was spiraling out of his control. And surprisingly, he found that it turned him on even more.

And Fleur had assured him her sister would be fast asleep. Surely, his wife would say something if she thought they would be discovered.

They had now reached the sitting room. Harry mercifully stopped spanking Fleur’s ass and skipped ahead to the largest couch in the room. Bill gulped as he saw that Harry had long since taken off his shirt. Harry’s torso gleamed in the light of the room and his muscles contracted powerfully as the black-haired man just _stretched_ on the sofa comfortably.

Bill just sank down on the single-seater right next to the couch. His wife let go of his hand and tried to make her way across the couch to the single-seater on the opposite side. But just as she passed Harry to move across him, he just _grabbed_ her ass again and _pulled_ her ass cheeks _down_ , her packed ass stretching as Fleur was made to sit down right next to Harry by his grip on her rump.

“Kneel in front of me,” Harry commanded.

Fleur just looked wide-eyed at Bill. Her husband gulped and nodded. And the blonde wife swiftly obeyed.

Harry’s shorts had bunched up when he sat down and his entire enormous shaft was poking out through the left leg of his shorts, fat purple cockhead peering in Bill’s direction as it protruded far past the crumpled material of Harry’s shorts. It was draped against his thigh. It was bigger and thicker than Bill’s entire fore-arm. _It would look like a second thigh_ , Bill thought, _if it wasn’t for the fact that Harry’s actual thigh was more muscled than a gnarled oak_.

And his wife was now eye to eye with that enormous snake – she was _staring_ at it, completely and entirely non-plussed with her mouth agape. She looked _mesmerized_.

“Like what you see?” Harry asked harshly, “Then why don’t you pull my shorts off so you can see it better?”

“I…” Fleur began, but Harry lifted his hips off the couch and Fleur obediently slid his boxers down.

Harry sank back down onto the couch with a sigh. “Now,” he said, “You can begin working on making it… ‘ard.” Harry said the last word with a mocking lilt, pronouncing it exactly the way Fleur had said it earlier.

Fleur tentatively reached a hand forward, still staring at his penis wide-eyed, as if she could not comprehend what was happening. _And neither can I_ , Bill thought in a daze as he unzipped his jeans and started rubbing at his eager prick, which sprang out virtually begging for attention.

Fleur’s fingers hovered millimeters away from where Harry’s cockhead was resting on his thigh. Then she glanced at Bill again. Bill saw his wife’s eyes widen when she noticed that he was masturbating. Her eyes lowered very, very briefly, to Bill’s crotch and then went back to Harry’s and Bill _knew_ his wife was comparing them ( _how is Harry such a friggin’ monster?_ ).

Fleur looked straight back at Bill as if to make it absolutely sure that he was okay with this sequence of events. Bill couldn’t take it anymore – his wife just looked so _sexy_ perched there in a transparent outfit, her breasts practically spilling out of her tiny bra underneath the netted gown and the curve of her ass mashed on her ankles as she _knelt_ in supplication before Harry’s enormous cock.

Bill just gulped and nodded. He needed to _see_ where this led, and he didn’t care about the consequences.

***

Fleur was utterly and dreadfully confused. And she was utterly and dreadfully turned on.

She had always been daddy’s little princess and she _knew_ she had been spoilt rotten by both of her parents. She knew she let it go to her head sometimes, and had lived her life to the fullest. The brief affairs she had had, the lovers she had taken - they were just part and parcel of teenage experimentation and the desire to explore her sexuality.

Eventually, though, especially in the aftermath of the Triwizard tournament, Fleur had experienced an awakening of sorts. Being placed last in the tournament had really awoken her, in a manner of speaking. While Fleur did not regret the full life she had led – the adventures of the tournament, being subjected to a painful curse by Krum, experiencing the pain of not being able to even complete the second task, realizing how horrible she had been to the fourteen year old winner of the Triwizard tournament, the shunning she had experienced after she had returned from the Tournament… all of these events convinced her that she needed to find some _stability_ in life. Some true _romance_ , away from the brief, passionate dates of her teenage years. She needed to move away from her life of luxury, and gain a fresh outlook.

So she had migrated to England. And had met a handsome curse-breaker – now a war hero – who had charmed her with his impeccable manner and easy-going nature. And she was now married to the man – she was not an inexperienced woman in the art of love, but it had never perturbed Bill. In fact, he had even asked her to regale him with tales of her past.

Yet, it was when he started prodding her for more _intimate_ details, even when they made love, that really startled her. Questions about how big her previous partners had been, if they satisfied her better than her husband did… and the weird part was how Bill seemed to _enjoy_ her answers regardless of whether they were in his favor.

Fleur did not really think she was dissatisfied with her sex life. Bill _did_ have a small penis (smaller than all of her past lovers, if she was being truthful), and was unimaginative in bed, but he made up for it with _other_ qualities.

Nonetheless, when Bill told her about how he wanted her to make love to his sister’s boyfriend, it had _really_ surprised her. However, in some ways, from the way it turned Bill on to hear her talk about her ex-boyfriends, she should really have suspected a request like that.

She had assented, making absolutely sure that Ginny Weasley was okay with it. Ginny and Fleur had never really been on friendly terms with each other – Fleur knew the redhead was always making faces behind her back – and Fleur had no reason to make her only sister-in-law even _more_ biased than she already was. But Bill had told her his sister had given her assent.

And when Fleur had _really_ thought about it, she wasn’t exactly opposed to some variety in bed. Of course, she _hardly_ expected little Harry Potter – brave hero that he was – to blow her socks off. From what she had heard of him, he had only been with a single person – Ginny Weasley – and Fleur doubted the little redhead witch had taught her partner much.

So she said yes to Bill’s strange request. She would play nice with Harry in bed, and return to her stable life with her husband. So Bill had a cuckolding fetish, but who _cares_?

Her only worry was that _she_ would blow Harry’s socks off, after having been with a _girl_ for so long (although, Fleur did suppose she was being uncharitable to the little redhead), he would experience a woman, and Fleur had _experience_ on her side. She had always been the dominant lover in all of her amorous relationships, and she would _obviously_ be the dominant one in the encounter with the teenage _boy_. Then again, even if Harry did start pining after her and lacked the maturity to see the encounter for what it was – a brief, but welcome dalliance - she would tell him to bugger off, even if he _was_ England’s savior.

At the very least, Fleur had thought, she would get to have her husband for a night before Harry. And Fleur was determined to make her husband feel secure so that he wouldn’t have second thoughts about the encounter with Harry ( _which Fleur was quite looking forward to, if only for the variety_ ). So she had dressed in a transparent nightgown and worn her best lingerie to _rock_ her husband’s world so that he would be assured of their bond.

Instead, _Harry_ had happened.

He had _used_ her, _manhandled_ her, groped her and her _husband_ seemed to enjoy it! And the worst part (or the best part, Fleur supposed) was that _she_ enjoyed it too. Harry had _crushed_ her tendency to be dominant in bed with nary an effort, _spanking_ her ass all over the place and making her _gush_ with mere words. _No one_ had said such things to her before – no one had _dared_.

Fleur had thought him a boy and he had turned out to be a _man_. And now, as he sat there with his legs spread out and his shorts off, Fleur saw how _much_ of a man he really was.

To put it bluntly, Harry was _enormous_ – the largest cock she had _ever_ seen, by _far_. His balls were the size of Fleur’s _fist_. _How do they not chafe against his thighs when he walks?_ Fleur thought incredulously. And his cock – it was like something out of paintings of satyrs Fleur had seen in museums and palaces. It was so long it _draped_ over his balls and extended off them onto the couch – he was obviously soft. Off to the side, she could _hear_ her husband panting as he jerked off.

“Now, we can work on making me _‘ard_ ,” Harry said.

Fleur reached out both hands towards his enormous meat and _gathered_ it up in her fists. _Morgana,_ Fleur thought, _my forefinger and thumb barely even touch each other_. _And there’s space for two more hands on this impossible thing!_

So Fleur _tugged_ and _pulled_ at it and his cock jangled this way and that, stretching and flopping, but not growing hard. Fleur was almost _insulted_ – she _knew_ she was sexy; the man should have gotten hard as soon as she _touched_ him. She glared up into his eyes and only saw amusement sparkling in his eyes. _The green-eyed bastard_ _is holding back. He’s taunting me._

And this encounter was _supposed_ to have been biased in her favor. She was a scorching blonde _goddess_ compared to the little girl Harry lugged around. Her ire grew and her husband fell away into a dark corner of her mind as she focused solely on the limp cock before her. She _would_ make it hard and she would show this arrogant little shit _(not so little, and incredibly handsome for a little shit_ , a voice in her head whispered) what a _real_ woman was like.

“What he really needs to wake up,” Harry taunted, “Is a little _kiss_ , _mon ami_.”

 _Oh,_ Fleur thought angrily _, I’ll show him a kiss._

She _plunged_ her mouth down on his shaft, her tits bashing onto his knees. And then, just as she had managed to stuff his soft tip into her mouth, Harry stood up, moving _off_ the couch and towering above her. Fleur rose up to keep his cockhead in her mouth and her tits squashed onto his thighs, still clad in a bra. Now Harry was right above her breasts, his cock spilling into her mouth and his balls inches from her chin. Fleur was still holding onto the upper half of his soft shaft by the base.

And she _stuffed_ his cock further in and _mashed_ her lips on his cock keeping her teeth well away as she licked and slobbered on his penis.

“That’s right,” Harry said, “ _Munch_ on my cock, you little _slut_.”

Fleur just glared at the man as she pushed her penis further and further down her mouth, stuffing it in with her hands. And it started hardening and _rapidly_ at that. Fleur grew alarmed at how _much_ it was growing inside her mouth. Her lips stretched and she tried to move off, but Harry’s hands snapped to her shoulders and just held her in place. His head poked into the back of her throat and her airway was blocked.

Harry’s hands moved to her head and his fingers dug into her hair, just _holding_ her against his cock. She choked and gagged and spluttered and starting smacking her fists against his thighs – not even making a dent in those slabs of muscle, but the man allowed her no respite. And after fifteen solid seconds of just _holding_ her on his hardening cock, Harry let her go and she snapped her head back in a daze, letting go of his shaft with a loud _pop_ , her lips _dragging_ against its immense girth as she slipped off.

“ _Batard_ ,” she snarled, even as her cunt _gushed_ at the said bastard’s humiliation. Fleur couldn’t _believe_ she was getting off being humiliated like this. She turned around to look at her husband again, to see what he thought of this, but her eyes bulged as she saw that her husband had already _spilled_. He had _cum_ from seeing his _wife_ being used by another man? And Bill was rubbing _again_. Now, Fleur was doubly insulted – he had never gone for seconds with _her_ , but seeing her _used_ like this was turning him on so much he could get a second wind without so much as a reload time?

 _Fine_ , Fleur thought _, if that’s how my husband wants me to play, I’ll play. And I’ll_ love _it._

 _And she was loving it_ , Fleur thought guiltily. It was an entirely new experience to her – being dominated like this – and Fleur had thought she had left these “new experiences” behind a long time ago. _But she had never really changed_ , Fleur thought, _she had just been suppressing herself_.

And it looked like Harry was here to bring old Fleur right back.

She looked up at Harry and smiled. “Fine,” she said, “Show me a good time, _mon amour._ ”

Harry grinned right back, bent down, gathered her hair in his left hand and _pulled_ her head back so she was facing straight up. With his right, Harry held the base of his meat and raised it like a club. And then _smacked_ it down on her face, across her right cheek. Fleur squealed. His cock was now on the other side, and Fleur realized it was now completely hard – Harry was actually shifting his hips as he smacked her. And his cock was _remarkably_ straight for such a grotesquely large penis – like a rod of unbending steel with nary a hair _anywhere_. And the _musk_ – Fleur had smelt it as it passed her face oozing a trail of pre-cum – smelt _amazing_. Like nothing she had ever smelt on _any_ of her lovers.

 _He isn’t human_ , Fleur thought _, he can’t be_. He was almost like an avatar of some long-lost deity, some forgotten god who was _banned_ from this world for showing human women what they could never fully have or understand.

A _god_ of love.

And then the god wielded his whip again, smacking her left cheek this time with his _cock_. But Fleur did not let it go out of reach this time. She clapped a hand to it, _clutching_ it from one side so that it lay flush against her cheek on the other. She _cuddled_ it and inhaled that amazing musk again. She slid her face back, never letting her cheek let go of that amazing pole, until she reached his fat, purple crown, at which point she turned her head and _kissed_ it.

The kiss widened until her mouth was almost French-kissing his sensitive dome, slurping at it with her tongue. And then Harry _pushed_ so that his entire head was buried in her mouth yet again. Fleur kept his enormous head in her mouth and _swallowed_. _Merde_ , she thought, _his pre-cum even tastes amazing._

And then she _sank_ down on it until it was clogging up her airways again – Fleur wanted to feel _that_ again. The helplessness she felt at being impaled on his cock and the bliss she felt as she escaped its imposing girth – she was getting off on it.

“Fuck,” Harry grunted, just as Bill choked out, “You _slut_!” and Fleur heard her husband’s fapping pace speed up. _I really do have the best of both worlds_ , Fleur thought snidely, _a husband that loves me so much he would invite a god into bed just to make me happy_.

Fleur choked herself silly on Harry’s shaft and then drew up again, but she just did _not_ want to let go of that tasty cockhead so she slid up until her lips met the ridge where his head met the main shaft, keeping his crown in her mouth, and then _choked_ herself down again. She slapped her hands against his muscled ass and _pulled_ so that he would go even further down her throat and _gagged_ and _spluttered_.

The deep-throating continued for ten whole minutes until Harry’s shaft was glistening with what seemed to be _gallons_ of Fleur’s spit. Harry eventually had to _pull_ the blonde wife off his cock, strands of saliva linking her lips to his lower head.

“Looks like you’re addicted,” he said, observing her spit-glazed face casually.

Fleur just panted. Her lungs were on fire from choking herself repeatedly on his tasty cock-meat and her cheeks felt heavy from being expanded by Harry’s girth, but she couldn’t help herself. She just panted wheezed and nodded.

Harry laughed. “Get up,” he commanded.

And Fleur got onto her feet, realizing with a start that she actually the same height as Harry. _But he looks huge_ , Fleur thought, and then realized that Harry was, in fact, significantly broader and muscled than she had realized.

 _Had he always been like this?_ _How did the girls at Hogwarts even stop themselves from jumping this man at every turn?_

Harry gripped her by her shoulders and turned her around so she was facing Bill with her back to Harry. She felt his cock _push_ against her ass cheeks and then snuggle into her asscrack, its head pushing at her lower back. And then she felt the back of her transparent gown _tear_ with a loud _rip_. The smooth skin of Harry’s palms made contact with her bare back and Fleur realized that Harry had torn the back of her night gown apart for better access to her body – her gown still hung along the front by her shoulder straps. After unclasping her bra, spilling her breasts and hardened, aroused nipples out for the world to see as her bra dropped down to the floor from _under_ her gown, his hands travelled _out_ towards both sides along her back and Fleur _moaned_ as she realize what Harry was going for.

Her eyes drew level with her husband and she looked straight at Bill as Harry palmed the sides of her tits and then moved his hands around so that his palms lay right on her tits. Harry’s front was now flush against her back. His balls lay right underneath her jutting ass, which was _smushed_ against Harry’s thighs and his cock was buried in her cheeks as it stood to attention against her lower back. And then Harry _squeezed_ her breasts, let go almost immediately and _pulled_ at her nipples and then massaged them, pushing them this way and Fleur _moaned_ , still looking straight into Bill’s eyes whose fingers were a blur as he drooled at the sight of his wife’s breasts being kneaded like flour right in front of him.

Fleur’s eyes grew glazed as Harry’s ministrations grew even more pleasurable. He was licking and kissing the side of her neck and she bent her head to allow further access.

***

Harry was _loving_ the scent of Fleur’s hair as he burrowed into it and nibbled at her neck, sucking and laying lustful kisses along its length. And her breasts felt wonderful in his palms as he kneaded them to his heart’s content. And he knew _she_ was loving it too, from the moans and gasps she was emitting, not to mention the rock hard nipples on her amazing tits. Fleur _ground_ her ass on his cock and his shaft felt as if it was _surrounded_ by her heavenly globes as it snuggled into her crack.

“Enough,” Harry said eventually, “Now for the main event.”

He let go of her heavenly breasts and sank down on the couch right behind him. Fleur sighed at the loss of his hands and he grinned. His cock was rock hard and pointing straight at the ceiling. Fleur turned around, looked at him and gasped again.

“Sit on it, Fleur,” he said.

She stared at his shaft, her eyes moving up and down its length, as if deciding the best course to tackle her next task. Eventually, she stepped out of her thong, planted her legs on either side of him and stood _up_ facing him with her feet on the couch, her twat gleaming over him with arousal and her amazing tits high up in the air. She was still wearing the transparent shirt, but she was wearing _nothing_ under it now, and Harry had a tantalizing view of her breasts underneath the netted material that he had been palming but a few seconds ago.

While Fleur didn’t quite have the _folds_ that the Weasley females possessed, her lower lips were amazingly plump and her clitoris was the _largest_ Harry had ever seen. It must have been at least _half an inch_ in diameter – he wondered if that was a _veela_ thing. But Harry was in no mood to go _down_ on _her_ – no, he wanted _her_ to serve _him_ , like he _deserved_. His mind was choked with lust after the battle, short as it was, and he was going to _fuck_ this woman like _she_ deserved it.

Drops of arousal dripped down and landed with _splats_ on his cockhead and he grinned up at Fleur’s face. She blushed and looked away from him. Slowly, teasingly, she bit her lower lip and sank down until her pussy was hovering _millimeters_ above the tip of his penis. Harry had to admire her flexibility as she _squatted_ down on her thighs. And then, with a gasp from both him and Fleur, her plump cuntlips _parted_ as they met his crown with an open _kiss_.

“You’re flowing!” Harry crowed as Fleur gasped, “ _Merde_ ” and her twat seemed to drool as it let go of _streams_ of her arousal down his cock. And then Fleur sank a little more and his crown _buried_ into her twat, parting her deliciously tight lips far apart.

“ _Merde_ ”, Fleur gasped again, “This… is… biggest… _mon dieu_!”

Suddenly Bill seemed to groan quite loudly from the corner. Harry and Fleur _both_ looked around in surprise. The redhead’s face seemed to go slack as he came for the second time that night. And then he promptly _fainted_ as an airy presence floated into the room.

Harry and Fleur looked at the archway to the stairs that was the source of this new presence, Fleur’s twat still hugging his enormous head.

Standing at the foot of the stairs, looking _extremely_ angry, was Gabrielle Delacour.


	6. Warrior, Part 4

Gabrielle was _seething_ as she observed the entire scene in the Shell Cottage drawing room. Fleur’s husband was sitting in a corner and jerking off pathetically as he watched his own wife go down on an enormous penis. And that wasn’t even the truly galling part – the worst part was that the enormous penis belonged to a certain _Harry Potter_. The man _Gabrielle_ had the _biggest_ crush on.

The fury that had built up over sixteen years of being denied what _she_ desired in favor of making way for her elder sister, of watching her father buy trinkets for her sister as she stood forlornly on the side, of broken dreams of being accepted as a _daughter_ as opposed to a freak… all of it came crashing down in an instant, working her up more than her grandmother’s slaps did in a _week_ of training.

Yet again, Fleur had snatched away something that _she_ desired. Only, this time, there was no Jean Delacour to glance at her with disdain when she protested. Her aura flared and Fleur’s weak-minded fool of a husband _creamed_ himself and fainted like an idiot.

Gabriell scoffed and entered the room. The gazes of the rutting couple on the couch both snapped around to face _her_.

“ _C’est quoi ce bordel_?” Gabrielle _screamed_. “ _Salope!_ ”

Fleur cringed and tried to move off Harry, but his hands snapped onto her hips and he held her in place. Gabrielle’s eyes involuntarily went down to the junction where her sister’s clean-shaven crotch met Harry and gulped. Fleur’s plump lips were stretched wider than Gabrielle had even _thought_ a pussy could stretch and the _ridge_ where Harry’s enormous dome met his fat rod was _just_ outside Fleur’s gaping quim. And his pole gleamed so _enticingly_ in the bright light of the room – Fleur’s pussy was _gushing_ over his penis.

”Gabby,” Fleur gasped, “ _Casse-toi_.”

Gabrielle gritted her teeth and switched to English. “I’m not _fucking off_ anywhere,” she said crossly.

Fleur was now squirming as she tried to get out of Harry’s iron grip and bent over, clutching onto his shoulders for support as her twat began churning out fluids at a greater pace. Despite herself, Gabrielle felt her face flush and her nipples harden. Her elder _slut_ of a sister seemed to be drooling with her _pussy_ now – Harry’s shaft was practically coated with Fleur’s arousal, and Fleur had yet to sink down on his pole.

Then, _Harry_ said in a low husky voice that sent shivers up Gabrielle’s spine, “Come sit down, Gabby.”

Fleur chimed in and gasped out, “No. Gabby… go… to… room.”

That settled it. Gabrielle walked straight over to the couch and sat down primly on its edge, at least two feet away from the couple. And then blushed as she saw the rutting couple in all their glory. Fleur’s clit – a vestige of her veela heritage – was poking right out through her plump lips, looking absurdly tiny against the endless shaft it lay flush against. Her sister was _clearly_ aroused. _Such a slut_ , Gabrielle thought grumpily.

And then she squeaked as her clothes suddenly vanished, leaving nary a trace of fiber on her body. Gabrielle frantically tried to cover up as she moved to the edge of the couch, but Harry stopped her with a word, “Don’t.” She stared at Harry – he was obviously the one that had vanished her clothes ( _how had he done that?_ ) and his eyes seemed to _radiate_ power. Her crush warred with her sense of shame. Eventually, her crush won out.

And Gabrielle obeyed. Slowly, hesitantly, she put her hands down and went back to her sitting position, her nipples standing to attention. Gabrielle knew her sister was at least a cup size above her(just one more thing her _sister_ had that she didn’t), but she had long since come to terms with it. However, it was the fact that _Harry_ was looking at her, awed, that truly got her going.

“ _Non_ ,” Fleur moaned, “’Arry… look… at… me, _please_.”

And Harry _pulled_ on Fleur’s hips. Fleur’s protests died on her lips as she _sank_ down on Harry’s rod with a single thrust. It _scraped_ her clit and smashed straight into her cervix and Fleur _came_ with a shudder. Both Gabrielle and Harry, who were staring at each other, glanced at Fleur in surprise. Harry obviously did not know that Fleur was so close to the _edge_. Fleur’s plump lips were now squirming around the base of his shaft, rubbing against his balls as she seemed to _leak_ and _shudder_ and _moan_.

“Zis… is… biggest… cock,” Fleur groaned as her convulsions wound down and she collapsed against Harry’s body. Her tongue lolled out and she _lapped_ at Harry’s face. He turned his head towards Gabrielle with an amused glance as Fleur _licked_ around his ear. Gabrielle simply glared as she strove to maintain the control she so cherished.

“Bitch,” Gabrielle snarled.

“’Arry’s bitch,” Fleur moaned out happily and Gabrielle gritted her teeth, even as her nipples hardened at the words. Harry just grinned at Gabrielle and _pulled_ Fleur’s hips up again, his muscles bunching up as he _worked_ her pussy up his shaft, leaving a trail of her cum all over his cock.

“ _Non_ , not ready!” Fleur moaned out as her body started spasming again.

And then Harry let go of Fleur’s hips again. Her legs, which were against the couch, refused to work, and Fleur just _collapsed_ back _down_ on Harry’s shaft, her pussy making a _squelch_ sound as it made room for his pole, which slammed deep inside Fleur’s vagina again. “Aaaaaaaaaah!” Fleur screamed, “ _Je ve jouir! Oui, oui!_ … _de nouveau_!” as her orgasm just seemed to go on.

“ _Non_!” Gabrielle gasped and moved to stop Fleur – she didn’t want to see this… didn’t want to see her sister ride a man _she_ wanted, so as Harry pulled Fleur up again, Gabrielle snapped her palms around Harry’s shaft just underneath Fleur’s twat, intending to stop her sister from being impaled again on his shaft. And then she gaped – she hadn’t realized how _enormous_ that rod was – as her fingers struggled to encircle even half of Harry’s meat. “ _Merde_ ,” Gabrielle gasped and then Fleur _screamed_ the same word as she was impaled again, despite Gabrielle’s efforts.

Fleur’s clit _bashed_ against Gabrielle’s hands, and _both_ Fleur’s shuddering quim _and_ Gabrielle’s soft hands _slid_ down Harry’s shaft until Gabrielle’s hands were resting on his balls. Fleur screamed as the sensation of Gabrielle’s hand smashing against her clit just as she impaled herself on Harry’s fat cock sent her careening off to yet _another_ high and she creamed all over her little sister’s hands.

Gabrielle both _saw_ her sister’s pussy gush out a river of juices and _felt_ it splatter all over her hands, and she grew even _more_ aroused. Gabrielle _needed_ what her sister was getting, she _wanted_ it. For not the first time in her life, Gabrielle wanted what her sister had and wanted it _bad_. Only, this time, there was no one to dissuade Gabrielle from throwing a tantrum, nor anyone for snatching Fleur’s toy away.

“That’s more like it!” Harry said triumphantly, “Stroke my shaft as your sister swallows it with her pussy!”

Gabrielle blushed – she _really_ hadn’t intended to join in, but now that he’d _invited_ her, she _would_. She would show Harry what a _real_ veela could do, as opposed to a _human_ like Fleur ( _quarter-veela_ being an absurd technicality for a woman who only possessed a _fraction_ of Gabrielle’s aura).

Suddenly, Harry rose _up_ , grabbing onto Fleur’s ass and _mauling_ her fleshy cheeks as he held her flush against the base of his shaft. Gabrielle’s hands slid off and she gaped as her crush _kissed_ her older sister with his shaft sheathed inside Fleur’s dripping pussy. Fleur was still shuddering and quivering and her legs were crossed behind Harry as she was held in the air by her own hands curled around Harry’s neck and Harry’s strong grip on her ass. Gabrielle watched open mouthed as she saw Harry’s and Fleur’s open mouths suckle on the other’s lips, their tongues swirling together with lust and passion.

And then, their mouths pulled off with a _slurp_ and Harry commanded Fleur to step down and turn around. Fleur obeyed and bent over with her ass to Harry. Harry steered Fleur so that she was face to face with the seated Gabrielle and then _pushed_.

And suddenly, Fleur was _hugging_ Gabrielle. Fleur was bent over, her face right against Gabrielle’s, her right cheek flush against Gabrielle’s own. Fleur was staring with glazed eyes at the back of the couch on which Gabrielle was seated and the young half-veela was staring straight over Fleur’s shoulder at Harry. Harry grinned at Gabrielle and _raised_ his massive shaft with his right hand. And then, wielding his cock like a stick, he _smacked_ Fleur’s right ass cheek with it, jiggling it with the force of his cockslap. Fleur squealed in Gabrielle’s ear delightedly. And then, as Gabrielle gaped, Harry started _slapping_ Fleur’s ass silly with his fat cock, jiggling her cheeks almost continuously as he alternated one cheek after the other and Gabrielle’s right ear resonated with her sister’s high-pitched joyous squeals.

And then, Harry reached right over Fleur’s back, his slick cock sliding against her ass, as he grabbed Fleur’s rich golden mane and _pulled_. Fleur’s face snapped back and she was now eye to eye with Gabrielle. And then, Gabrielle saw Harry _push_ and his cock disappeared into Fleur’s folds again, although Gabrielle could not see the penetration. But Gabrielle knew Harry had sunk his cock into Fleur’s pussy because her sister got _that_ look on her face again – the silly, triumphant grin and the glazed eyes that made Gabrielle both aroused and mad. Fleur moaned right in Gabrielle’s face. Gabrielle let Fleur’s pleasant breath wash over her as Harry started _pounding_ in. Fleur was still holding onto Gabrielle’s shoulders and started _pushing_ and _pulling_ , moving Gabrielle back and forth as she got _fucked_.

“OUI, OUI!” Fleur started screaming with each _thrust_ of Harry’s enormous shaft and _ripple_ of her bouncing ass as Harry’s hips met Fleur’s buttocks with a series of resounding _claps_ , “AAAAAAH!”

Fleur was soon screaming and drooling right in Gabrielle’s face as they both moved back and forth; Gabrielle had anchored herself into the couch and her own hands were braced against the backrest, but the force of Harry’s pounding was such that Gabrielle could not help but collide with the back of the couch, only to bounce right back as he pulled out of Fleur. And her sister was screaming in her face the whole time, her hot breath washing over Gabrielle.

And it just went _on_ and _on_ , until Gabrielle’s back grew sour with the constant thrusts into the couch. After nearly twenty minutes of pounding, Fleur began shuddering and quivering all over Gabrielle’s shoulders, her fingers clawing lightly on Gabrielle’s neck and her eyes rolling up in her head.

“ _Je n’en peux plus!”_ Fleur screamed, “’Arry! Please! Cannot… take… much… more… PLEASE!”

And the last word extended into a full-throated scream as Fleur seemed to have her biggest orgasm yet. Gabrielle saw Harry grin behind Fleur and then pull out. And Fleur seemed to _collapse_ and continue to shudder on the ground, curling up into a fetal position. Gabrielle couldn’t help but grin at the helpless position. “Bitch,” Gabrielle murmured. After several _minutes_ of shuddering on the ground, Fleur seemed to fall into something resembling a coma. Gabrielle couldn’t help but stare at her sister’s plump pussy lips, which seemed to be gasping and quivering, open-mouthed and pulverized by Harry’s rod.

Harry seemed to conjure a wand out of thin air as he floated the comatose Fleur over to the couch right beside Gabrielle, where the older woman just curled up into the couch. Gabrielle just gaped at this casual display of wandless magic – _where had he even conjured the wand from_?

And then the thought died as Harry moved towards her with his enormous rod waving eagerly, pointing high up into the air. There were fluids dripping this way and that as the cock bounced with Harry’s every step – Gabrielle could only assume it was Fleur’s juices and spit, because Harry did not look like he had cum yet.

And as if confirming her assumption, Harry said, “Care to finish what your sister started?”

Gabrielle kept her legs firmly closed as her pussy _gushed_ and her clit _hardened_. Gabrielle then placed both hands on her crotch, hiding it from Harry’s view with an “ _eep_ ” as she stared into his feral, but mesmerizing green eyes.

“Your sister,” Harry said lightly as he simply stood before her with a massive erection, “Is what the guys at Hogwarts used to call a good, hard fuck. You pound her silly for the better part of an hour and that’s all there is to it. Any longer, and you get bored. Any less, and she leaves unsatisfied.”

Harry looked over at Fleur. “Well, she seems pretty satisfied, don’t you think?”

Gabrielle glanced at Fleur and her swollen pussy briefly and then looked back at Harry. She said nothing.

“But you,” Harry said, looking straight at her, “You are what I call a _long_ , erotic _fuck_. You’re _exotic_ – a veela. You deserve so _much_ more than that.”

“Yes,” Gabrielle breathed, “So… much… more… than… _‘er_ …”

Harry seemed amused. “Ah, so there’s friction between sisters, eh? No matter, I shall show you a _world_ of pleasure, Gabrielle, if you’ll only let me.”

His voice softened at the end and he _knelt_ in front of Gabrielle, his knees on the ground in front of her as she sat on the couch. Those green eyes seemed to look into her soul as he just held her gaze.

And Gabrielle couldn’t take it anymore. She _wanted_ what her sister had, _needed_ it, _craved_ it. And she _deserved_ it, much more so than her utter _slut_ of a sister. So she took her hands off her crotch and spread her legs wide as she pushed her hips forward along the couch.

Harry looked down. “Well,” he said, his tone light, “This is new.”

***

Harry stared at Gabrielle’s crotch.

Gabrielle squeaked in alarm as she tried to close her legs again, but Harry’s hands snapped into place along her inner thighs as he kept them apart. Gabrielle blushed and looked down at her own vaginal lips. Where a human woman would have a _clitoris_ , she had a long tubular filament, about half an inch thick and three inches long - as big as Gabrielle’s little finger, Harry surmised – apparently sprouting _right_ above her opening, fleshy pink in color and _immensely_ sensitive, judging by how it was quivering as Harry blew upon it.

“It is called a… _stamen_ ,” Gabrielle said in one breath, anxious to find out if her crush was disgusted or not, “It… it is a veela growth.”

“Ah,” Harry said, remembering what Bill had said, “Veela grow a protuberance when… they are aroused, I presume. You discharge a genetic material through this tube into _other_ veela, in case you decide to make a _full_ veela.”

Gabrielle just nodded and blushed. “Oh don’t worry, Gabrielle,” Harry said casually, “I’m just surprised. It’s… _beautiful_.”

Gabrielle stared at him with disbelieving eyes. At that moment, it struck Harry how closely she resembled her older sister. The same pert, avian nose, the same azure blue eyes, the pouty lips and the utterly beautiful face – they were all there. However, Fleur’s nose was a _little_ too long, her lips a _little_ too plump and her left eye was a _bit_ more skewed than her right. And those imperfections only served to enhance Fleur’s beauty.

Gabrielle’s features, on the other hand, were _perfect_. Like she was _designed_ to be utterly, devastatingly beautiful. Her long, blonde hair sparkled and glimmered with a beauty that Fleur’s hair did not even come close to matching. He supposed her perfectly symmetrical features _should_ have place Gabrielle in some sort of uncanny valley, but they did _not_ – and he could pinpoint exactly why that was. All around her, rippling with repressed energy was a sense of _magic_. The notorious veela aura, that Gabrielle had just used to devastating effect to make Bill go to sleep, hung around her, tightly controlled but immensely powerful. And Harry _loved_ that feeling.

Harry grinned and just _dove_ in.

***

Gabrielle was seeing stars in five minutes flat. Harry had licked and lapped at her, teasing around her incredibly sensitive _stamen_ – as sensitive as a human woman’s clitoris, but _larger_ and packed with more nerve endings – and then delved into her with his _tongue_. And had continued to do so for a while before he found a _spot_ inside her that she _loved_. She squealed as he scoped it out, then he _grinned_ around her plump lips and his tongue started to _vibrate_ , all the while licking away at that _spot_. And her twat _gushed_ and _pumped_ out fluid all over her lover’s immensely talented tongue. His nose was pushing her stamen this way and that as he _slurped_ away at her gushing pussy.

“Oh _yes_!” Gabrielle cried as she quivered around Harry. She clutched at his head and tried to draw him even deeper into her cunt. “Make me _cum_! Make me cum!”

Her stamen was _stiffer_ than ever – Gabrielle had had several orgasms before by virtue of her own fingers, but _never_ as intense as this. And from what she could tell, it would only get _more_ intense from here.

Harry drew away from her twat with a _slurp_. “So,” Harry said idly as he looked at her still shuddering quim, “How does the stamen _discharge_ genetic material exactly?”

Gabrielle moaned, as she struggled to come down from her orgasm. She was slowly losing _control_ and she knew it. “Veela… ‘ave a set of glands,” she panted, her brain struggling to come up with the information through her haze, “They… ooze… the… material… when… aroused.”

And sure enough, the tip of the stamen, which had grown into a miniscule _bulb_ started oozing a fluid that looked quite similar to her vaginal juices. The drops of fluid started dripping right back down the slim tube and down the edge of her cunt lips.

“Interesting,” Harry said idly and Gabrielle realized how hilarious this discussion was. He was kneeling before her with an _enormous_ erection discussing veela physiology while staring at her drooling twat and leaking _stamen_.

Without warning, Harry suddenly hooked his hands underneath her legs and stood up so that her feet were right around his shoulders. And then something _enormous_ pushed against her pussy, _spreading_ her plump lips apart deliciously and Gabrielle moaned, “’Arry!”

She looked down and almost _came_ at the sight of Harry’s fat cockhead _parting_ her twat with its stout girth. Her stiff, leaking stamen was now _flush_ against his unyielding cockhead, looking impossibly tiny next to that enormous meatpole.

And Harry took a hold of his cock with his right hand and _teased_ up her relatively tiny stamen and Gabrielle _groaned_ at the sensation. Then Harry stroked the tip of his cock against her lower lips, tracing the rims of her weeping cunt with the tip of his cock.

“HARRY!” Gabrielle pleaded in desperation, “ _Please_!”

“Oh?” Harry asked, “You want this cock in you, Gabrielle?”

“YES!” Gabrielle moaned as Harry started pushing _ever so slightly_ against her pussy, sinking into it a _millimeter_ before pulling right back out. She was squirming on her seat now, _begging_ for that meat to _plunge_ into her horny twat.

And then Gabrielle let go of her aura again, as she did earlier, only trying to _egg_ Harry on, using her magic to her advantage as she seldom had before.

It was like throwing her magic against an unyielding wall. Her aura, springing forward in a tightly controlled manner, seemed to meet a _well_ of power.

“Tch, tch,” Harry said, “Oh _Gabby_ , you silly little girl.”

***

Harry felt her aura spring forward as it tried to _force_ him to bend to his will. Only, he reached out with his own power, stomping her aura into the ground. He grinned as Gabrielle moaned, her twat shuddering right around his crown, and then _latched_ onto Gabrielle’s retreating aura. She tried to pull it back into her rapidly and Harry just followed it back to its source.

As he had expected, Gabrielle’s aura was _tightly_ wound up – he smirked and decided the veela needed a bit of loosening up. So he searched around, poking and prodding at her magic and discovered numerous chains and locks that the girl must have taken _years_ to forge. He got the sense that all of these blocks, self-imposed though they were, had been forged subconsciously and intuitively. He was getting a sense of where Gabrielle was coming from – obviously, the nature of the birth had not sat well with her parents (or perhaps just her father), from what Bill had told him. And that had led to no small amount of neglect, which had _forced_ Gabrielle to impose locks unconsciously upon her own aura, locking her presence _in_ and taming magic that was supposed to be free. _I’m familiar with the situation_ , Harry thought dryly.

So Harry reached out with tentacles of power and held onto every lock he could find with his _magic_. And then _pulled_.

***

Gabrielle frantically tried to withdraw her aura as she felt Harry’s power grow; his eyes blazed with untamed magic and the loose objects in the room started shuddering in place. Suddenly, she felt his magic poke into her aura almost _painfully_ , seizing it in places that _hurt_. And then the air shimmered and Gabrielle moaned in relief – she felt as if someone had just popped a dozen knots in her back she had not even _realized_ she had. Like her magic was a muscle that was loosening up after a vigorous massage. Dimly, she realized she was beginning to _let go_ , just like her grandmother and mother had said.

And she _came_ with a vengeance, her pussy shuddering as it grasped at Harry’s dome, trying to encourage it to move in. A dozen bottled emotions burst forth in a hurry – Gabrielle alternated between rage, sorrow and _utter bliss_ – bliss being the most prominent among them.

She was… _free_.

***

Gabrielle drew up and bent over nearly double as she tried to shower Harry’s face with happy kisses. Her legs were still around Harry’s shoulders. She pushed her legs down his shoulders to the sides, Harry hooked his hands up and her legs dropped onto his forearms. She _hugged_ Harry around the neck as he sheathed himself completely in her vagina.

He had no idea why Gabrielle was so happy at the moment – he had merely helped her _loosen up_ (or so he thought). And then her twat _gushed_ as she came and Harry _really_ had no idea why that had just happened. He had barely _moved_. So he happily _plunged_ right in and gasped at the sensation of her fluttering pussy.

It was _amazing_ inside her. Her inner walls were inhumanly silky… velvet, wet flesh _parting_ smoothly as he entered and then _hugging_ his shaft in a manner he had not even _experienced_ with another woman. _So this is what a veela is like_ , he thought.

And their lips met – her tongue dueled his and then surrendered as he _plundered_ her mouth. He was _loving_ the sensation of her pussy – it was unlike _anything_ he had experienced before. And he _knew_ it was not because Gabrielle _knew_ how to control her inner walls; he was obviously her first. But it was _intuitive_ , the way her walls slid aside as his cock pushed in, only to tighten with amazing control as he sheathed himself completely. And then, as he pulled out, her wet twat _hugged_ his cock as if not wanting to let it go after welcoming it inside so smoothly. It was _amazing_. This was the perhaps the best cunt he had experienced – only Hermione’s incredibly tight quim matched up to it in terms of sheer pleasure.

His balls were slapping against her ass and he pistoned in and out of her smoothly and Gabrielle moaned against his mouth, kissing him for all she was worth. Incredulously, he noted that both Fleur and Bill were not even _stirring_ and the room was practically echoing with the slap of his flesh against Gabrielle.

 _Time to take this upstairs_ , he thought.

***

Gabrielle’s legs were in the air, held up by Harry’s hands and her mouth was furiously engaged with his, but the only sensation she _truly_ felt at that moment was that of his cock finding its home in her pussy. Her stamen _rubbed_ against his enormous shaft and then _pushed_ up against Harry’s tummy as he slammed in and then slid back along his slimy cock, _oozing_ her _stuff_ all the way.

Dimly, she registered that the scene around her was shifting and changing rapidly. Her sister and the sitting room had faded away to give way to the staircase going up to the second floor and then, suddenly, they were in the guest bedroom, right beside the bed.

“You… left… Fleur… down stairs?” she choked out in between gasps as she pulled her lips off Harry’s.

Harry shrugged.

“Thought her husband would love seeing his thoroughly shagged wife on the couch,” he said.

“So… naughty,” Gabrielle gasped and smiled.

And then Harry _pushed_ her up against the wall and started _really_ pounding her. Her legs went limp and her chokehold around Harry tightened as she screamed out at yet _another_ orgasm. And then something inside her _flared_ and she _pushed_.

***

Harry gasped as Gabrielle seemed to _burst_ off the wall, throwing both of them down onto the large bed behind them. He sank down on his back onto the soft bedding and Gabrielle bounced atop him, her breasts jiggling delightedly as she _rode_ him, her pussy still milking his cock in a _delightfully_ refreshing fashion. He grinned at the feeling, reached up and squeezed her breasts, _pulling_ at her nipples and palming her heaving bosom.

“I am _veela_!” Gabrielle screeched as her cunt quivered and she _came_ again with a flurry of fluids.

And the air seemed to _thrum_ with the sensation of powerful magic. Gabrielle’s golden, sparking hair turned dull, then shimmered forest green. Her back arched and feathers of the same forest green color seemed to sprout all over her body. Her hands grew out and sharpened into claws. Gabrielle’s feet squeezed underneath Harry’s lower back, getting between him and the bed, as they grew into talons. Emerald scales sprouted everywhere on her slender limbs and her face _morphed_. Her nose and mouth grew out, hardening and forming a cruel, curved beak and her eyes seemed to sparkle with an unholy light. And that was when the wings sprouted.

Harry gaped. The wingspan was _enormous_ and the wings were utterly gorgeous. Softy, white downy feathers covered the entire field of his vision and Gabrielle transformed from a woman of heavenly beauty to a fiercely beautiful creature of unearthly majesty, his cock still sheathed inside her. Like a mythical dryad – like nature given flesh.

The wings flapped and Harry felt the air churn around him as she _rose_ into the air, _pulling_ him up with her in a display of inhuman strength. Her cunt, now covered with tiny feathers on the outside, was _choking_ his dick. It was as if she was a predator, taking him – a hapless prey – to her nest, to _ruin_ and _use_.

Well, he was no hapless prey. Harry just grinned, _pulled_ down, pushing her talons under his back down slightly in the process and then _thrust_ upwards, fucking her in mid-air. The sensation was incredible – a fully transformed Gabrielle was holding Harry in mid-air as he continued spearing in and out of her deliciously tight cunt in short, powerful jabs.

“I feel like I’m floating!” Harry crowed, “Floating… and _fucking_.”

Gabrielle’s beak opened and she let out a _screech_ like a bird of prey, as her cunt shuddered yet again around Harry’s shaft. She was _cumming_ , again. And then Gabrielle descended as she came around his cock, plunging them back down on the bed. Her wings shrunk and retreated into her back, her feathers disappeared and her hair turned back to its lustrous golden hue. The magic in the air simmered down and Gabrielle came down from her high as she sank down on his shaft, now looking utterly human, if inordinately beautiful.

She was staring at him wide- eyed as she just sat on his cock and stared. “Did… I… transform?” she gasped, wide-eyed, her pussy still wet and quivering around his shaft and her stamen still erect as it pressed into his abs.

Harry nodded. She slumped forward onto his chest and _kissed_ him.

“I transformed!” she cheered between kisses, “I _transformed_!”

The happiness was infectious. “Thank you, thank you!” Gabrielle said as she kissed Harry deeply, their tongues entwining and curling around each other for nearly a minute before she withdrew.

And then she paused. “Harry,” she said, “I… love you.”

Harry just grinned and flipped them over so that she was beneath him. And then proceeded to grind her, his cock spreading and pushing the insides of her vagina deliciously as he rotated his hips. She _moaned_ and they kissed again.

“You’re utterly gorgeous,” Harry murmured, “Even when you transform… my winged _angel_.”

***

Gabrielle had no idea how long they continued to make love. Harry just _pushed_ her walls this way and that as he ground against her _ever so pleasurably_ , then _pounded_ into her, his slick cock sliding in and out of her pussy with abandon and then _lifted_ her hips as he knelt and _angled_ his cock right into her g-spot. She came _countless_ times as he made love to her for what seemed like _hours_.

 _I have learned to let go_ , Gabrielle thought happily, _Let go of my own magic_. _Let go of my true self_.

And then she looked at the man who was making love to her. _But I am never letting go of him_ , she decided, making a vow to herself. Harry was _hers_ and she was _his_.

And they made love all night. Gabrielle slipped in and out of her pleasurable daze, sometimes cumming violently as he pounded her into the bed and sometimes _drawing_ out her orgasm as he _teased_ it out of her with a slow grind. He _used_ her, turned her _this_ way and _that_. Fucked her with him on top, then asked her to mount him as he _slammed_ his hips into her pussy, stretching her twat out deliciously. Then she was on her side, curling up as he sheathed himself in her vagina from behind. Their bodies moulded against each other as he speared into her vagina, slowly _pushing_ in and out. His enormous shaft never left her tight, inhuman cunt that night.

Eventually, night gave way to dawn as sunlight filtered in through the curtained windows. And Harry’s pace sped up for the umpteenth time. Gabrielle’s throat was raw from screaming and squealing and groaning all night so she just panted as Harry pounded in and out of her for what seemed like an entire lifetime of pleasure.

And then his balls _pulsed_ against her ass and he dischargedspurt after spurt of semen into her womb.

“I… love… you,” Gabrielle murmured as she fell asleep.

***

_A few hours later_

Harry sat on the couch, his head in his hands as he stared down at the floor in front of Bill and Fleur.

He had gotten up that morning in mounting horror as he woke up next to Gabrielle. _Crap_ , he realized with a start, _I just cheated on Ginny_. _Crap_.

Sure, he _had_ done Molly without Ginny’s knowledge – but Ginny had _given her permission_ in her mother’s case. The same applied to both Hermione and Fleur. But Harry just _knew_ there was no way in _hell_ Ginny would _ever_ have consented to him making love to an unattached _veela_.

He realized, with a sinking sensation, that he had utterly and completely lost control. He had done _stuff_ to Gabrielle’s magic… although, she did seem happy about that as she slept with a contented smile beside him. He had acted on instinct he did not even _know_ he possessed, forcing his company on Bill and then banging his wife. Granted, Bill _had_ given him permission, but Harry was _sure_ Bill had not planned on Harry banging his wife in the middle of their sitting room. And then Harry had cheated on Bill’s sister with his sister-in-law.

 _Oh, crap,_ Harry thought again, _what have I done_?

And so, he was sat in front of a very confused, but thankfully dressed Bill and Fleur, ready to apologize.

“Harry,” Bill said, “It’s okay. I _asked_ you for this – and I _really_ enjoyed it.”

Then Bill looked around confused at Fleur and then at Harry. “Although, I think I _fainted_ in the middle.”

Fleur just nodded and blushed. “Yes,” she said demurely, “You fainted. It didn’t go on for much longer though.”

Bill just smiled and nodded as Harry gaped at Fleur. _Oh it went on for much longer_ , he thought, _much much longer_. Fleur was _lying_.

“Well, Harry,” Bill said, striding up to him, “It’s okay. I definitely want an encore, and I suppose Fleur does too. So relax. You did not do anything I hadn’t asked for. This was a novel experience for us, and it’s okay that you went a bit overboard. I enjoyed it.

“Now,” Bill continued, looking around at the clock above the hearth, “I have to go to office to finish up some pesky paperwork.”

“Yeah,” Harry said morosely, as he got up, “I have to get back to the Burrow.”

Bill winked at him. “Awesome,” he said, “Let me just go get changed and we’ll leave by Floo.” And Bill trudged upstairs. Harry smoothed his clothes as he looked nervously at a blushing Fleur.

“’Arry,” Fleur said, “Bill is right. It is okay.”

Harry just stared at her. She blushed again. “I did not mind,” she said, “I _loved_ it. It was the best night of my _life_. And if Bill accepts, you will be here again.” But then her eyes snapped up to meet his. They narrowed, “Although,” she said, “I do not think I appreciate what you did with Gabby.”

Harry just put his head in his hands again.

“But it is okay,” Fleur said and sighed, “Gabrielle has a _powerful_ aura. Bill does not know why he fainted, but I do. My ‘usband does not need to know. But she _commanded_ him.”

Harry nodded.

“Just like she seduced _you_ ,” Fleur said decisively.

Harry stared at her, startled by her false deduction. He could see _why_ she had arrived at that conclusion, but it just was _not_ true. He opened his mouth to protest, but Fleur continued, cutting him off, “I am _very_ disappointed in her, using her _wiles_ like that. I shall see to it that she learns what happened today was a mistake.

“I did not want Bill to know, and you don’t have to let Ginny know either,” Fleur said.

 _Oh, Fleur_ , Harry thought morosely, _it’s convenient that you believe your sister controlled me. But it’s inconvenient that I still have a conscience. And it’s inconvenient that I know for a fact that your sister did not control me. I controlled HER. And then probably snapped her aura loose, from what I remember._

But Harry just nodded. Bill descended down the stairs and they both went down the corridor and into the Floo.

***

Hermione Granger was troubled. She was _fast_ discovering that she had absolutely _nothing_ in common with her boyfriend. And they were growing further and further apart. The only time they seemed to come together was at night, when she snuck into Ron’s room and he proceeded to try and get her to “tell him how amazing Harry was” as he sat and masturbated in a corner.

It was _sad_. And _utterly_ pathetic. She supposed some would tell her she had the best of both worlds – a caring boyfriend who let her sleep with a gifted lover from time to time. Only, her _boyfriend_ wasn’t _caring_ at all. He had forgotten all about Valentine’s Day and often tried to delight her with his Quidditch exploits, or tales of Chudley Cannons matches.

He said he was going to be a Quidditch Keeper – a career trajectory she had no interest in following. And she was slowly beginning to realize, from her single encounter with him earlier last year that it would be _easy_ to lean the other way. _Easy_ to fall in love with her _other_ best friend. And as the days passed, more and more of her leaned towards _that_ option.

Only, Harry had surprised her with how _cold_ he had been after their phenomenal session of love-making. No cuddling, no hugging, _nothing_. He called her _beautiful_ and _gorgeous_ and treated her as if she was _precious_ while he was making love to her, but then left her guzzling his cum on the bed and just… _left_.

The problem was, Hermione could _not_ tell apart romance and raw sex. They were _one_ in her mind – she was a die-hard romantic and _could_ _not_ imagine why she and Harry had truly _connected_ during their session if they did not _love_ each other.

And she could not see _why_ Ginny would let him _do_ her, if the redhead _loved_ him. Hermione had flat out asked Ginny one day about the whole business, and Ginny had lightly told her Harry is quite capable of telling apart love and sex. And that Hermione should feel lucky at securing the attention of _two_ men. Harry apparently _loved_ Ginny. Hermione had been _just sex_.

That sent the bushy-haired girl into quite a rage. She stormed off and did not speak to Ginny for days.

But it troubled her that Ginny _could_ be right. Either way, Hermione was still with Ron… her mind was not yet made up.

Although a part of Hermione _did_ know her current relationship would not last. “And then,” she murmured ominously, “It’s open season on Harry Potter.”

Ginny would _rue_ the day she told Hermione the brown-haired bookworm was _second_ in Harry’s heart. In the meantime though, Hermione would take _full_ advantage of Ginny’s permission to shag Harry – she could not _wait_ for Harry to return.

***

Gabrielle was amused by her sister’s vehemence. Her sister had entered her room only to receive a face full of Gabrielle’s aura. Fleur just stood, slack-jawed, at the door as Gabrielle giggled. Then her sister had snapped to attention and proceeded to scold Gabrielle for _controlling_ Harry the previous night.

 _As if she could control Harry Potter!_ Gabrielle thought incredulously. Harry had utterly and completely _dominated_ her, but more than _that,_ while he had dominated her _body_ , he had set her _spirit_ free. She was utterly _his_ for just _that_. He had shown her a world of pleasure and unleashed her transformation, all in a single night.

It was _ridiculous_ how much power she sensed around him. And she wanted _more_ of that – she was addicted to that feeling of raw power. She had listened to her sister’s scolds and rants like a good little veela, then smirked behind her sister’s back as Fleur left.

“Bitch,” Gabrielle snarled and then turned to the window. Fleur also saw fit to tell her that the Weasleys would be having an Easter dinner soon, right before Gabrielle had to go back to Beauxbatons. Gabrielle was to accompany them, but _not_ engage with Harry at all.

But Gabrielle was _free_ now. And with that _freedom_ came an indomitable wish to pursue her chosen mate. She had decided upon Harry Potter and would be _damned_ if she didn’t at least _try_ to win his heart. First, though, Gabrielle had to confront Ginny Weasley.

***

Harry stood in the shower and just soaked in the sensation of warm, soothing droplets caressing his skin. He cringed as he thought of Ginny’s reaction at his confession – he had come straight to the Burrow and confessed to Ginny about Gabrielle.

And Ginny had utterly and completely blown her _lid_. The entire Burrow would have heard their argument if it wasn’t for some quick wandwork on Harry’s part. Ginny screamed at him for nearly half an hour and slammed her fists futilely against his chest in rage.

Harry discovered, almost with detached curiosity, that the _horror_ that had possessed him all morning – and had prompted him to confess to Ginny as well as apologize to Bill and Fleur – had utterly and completely disappeared now. The Elder Wand had allowed him some respite, but was now back, and he thought he knew why. The Elder Wand had _screamed_ at him to soak himself in blood and sex. And once he _had_ engaged in the battle with the giants and _then_ proceeded to shag _both_ Fleur _and_ Gabrielle through the entire night, the Elder Wand had stopped trying to _influence_ him and his _true_ feelings had returned.

Or so Harry thought. The truth was he did not know if _he_ was the one in control any more. Was the Elder Wand _his_ master? Or was he the Wand’s master? Where did its influence end and his true feelings begin? How had Dumbledore even kept the Elder Wand from influencing him? Was there a way to stop it? Was there a way to _tame_ it?

He needed answers. He wanted to be the one in _control_ – the bloodlust was _his_ to use, a tool to be used as _he_ saw fit.

Harry stepped out of the shower and into the guest bedroom of the Burrow (Ron and Hermione were upstairs, and Harry had _no wish_ to be persuaded into _another_ weird shagging session), draped in a towel and trying to come up with a plan of action to probe the secrets of the Elder Wand when he was confronted by _Ginny_. And she was completely naked.

With a determined tilt of her chin, she strode right up to him and pulled the towel off his waist. She proceeded to massage his penis with both hands.

“I was hurt, Harry,” Ginny said, looking straight into his eyes, “I want you to love _only_ me. I don’t care who you shag on the side, I want you to know _I_ am _yours_. And _you_ are _mine_. There is no one else in your heart. I don’t _want_ there to be anyone else.”

Harry nodded mutely.

“So,” Ginny continued, between kisses along the sides of his face and along his neck, “You’re going to tell me exactly what the little veela fangirl did – _every, single, dirty detail_ \- and I’m going to show you exactly _why_ that little French _slut_ isn’t worth your _time_.”

And she went down on her knees. Harry moaned as she suckled his penis.

 _Well_ , he thought, _At least we’re not splitting up. I can always worry about the Elder Wand later_.

***


	7. Reveller

_Easter_

The Weasleys were throwing a party. Of course, dinner would be an intimate affair, but apparently, the after-party would be _huge_ – after all, Arthur Weasley _was_ the Deputy Minister of Magic. Harry had lent a hand with some of the more spectacular constructs outside the Burrow. The marquee that had been set up for Bill’s wedding was up again. An enormous hedge, at least ten feet tall, lined the North facing edge of the marquee, with shelves constructed from leaves and twigs built right into it holding chilled beverages. A long bar shelf stood along the hedge, with several bar stools standing in front of it. It was an open bar, for the most part, but Charlie and George would be on standby, just in case. The marquee itself had several tables and chairs for guests to sit around and converse. Apparently, the Weasleys expected well over a hundred people – extended family, colleagues and friends – to turn up.

Harry supposed it was new territory for the Weasleys – being _the_ prominent Wizarding family, as opposed to the Malfoys or the Parkinsons, who had apparently held such events in the past. And so, he had spent most of the past week conjuring and constructing objects for the event. He _had_ tried to keep his magic low-key, but had attracted attention anyway when he managed to engorge the small hedge the Weasleys had planted into the enormous wall of green it was right now.

Either way, while Harry would have been intimidated by the event in the past, he relished this chance to meet prominent members of wizarding society and looked forward to dancing the evening away with friends and those he could call family. He supposed part of it was because of the Elder Wand – he _knew_ most of it was simply because he wanted a chance to relax and unwind.

However, the party with the open bar and the marquee was later at night. First on the agenda was the traditional Weasley Family dinner – a much more intimate affair. Of course, with the Weasleys, an “intimate family affair” still meant at least a dozen people would be in attendance.

And thus, Harry found himself in his current predicament. He had made his way to the dinner table ten minutes late (Harry had put off searching for his formal robes for quite some time and was unable to find them – he eventually had to settle for a shirt and slacks) only to find all of the seats taken except for _one_. He had hoped to sit next to Ginny, if only to reassure her that their relationship was still going strong, only to find the seats next to her taken. Ginny was seated along the left side of the long wooden table that the Weasleys used for family dinners. His girlfriend sat on the fourth chair from the head of the table. To her right was Ron; and to her left, much to Harry’s consternation and her obvious ire – judging by her stormy expression – was Gabrielle Delacour, looking absolutely radiant in a forest green outfit. Gabrielle winked at Harry as soon as he came in, making him blush – her forest green dress was a not-so-subtle allusion to her transformation during their torrid affair – and making Ginny give him a glare. Harry had no idea what Gabrielle was playing at here, but he assumed he would pay for it later – hopefully with another round of angry make-up sex with Ginny.

He stood awkwardly in the corner, trying to find a seat. Arthur was seated at the head of the table, flanked by his oldest sons – Bill and Charlie. Percy and George came next. To George’s left, sat Ron, who was talking animatedly with the surviving twin. Opposite Ron sat a tall, stunning blonde woman with curly hair who Harry had seen only on Gladrags posters in Diagon Alley. She was obviously the soon-to-be Audrey Weasley, the fiancée of Percy Weasley. However, her beauty was marred by an ugly expression that reminded Harry of Narcissa Malfoy – she wore an elitist frown on her face as she surveyed her surroundings, although the frown ceased whenever she spoke with Fleur to her right. To Fleur’s right, sat Angelina Johnson – looking absolutely _sexy_ in a velvet gown that only served to accentuate her delicious chocolate skin. To Angelina’s right, near the tail end of the table, sat Andromeda Tonks, who had obviously been invited for the dinner – Harry felt a bit sad for her; she had lost practically all of her family in the way and had come out remarkably strong, if only for her grandson. Hermione was seated right opposite Andromeda, to Gabrielle’s left. Her bushy hair was now combed into lush brown waves and Harry thought she looked as beautiful as Gabrielle – of course, Hermione was nowhere near as voluptuous, but she looked wonderfully petite in her trademark periwinkle blue dress.

At the tail end of the table, right opposite Arthur and against the wall of the dining area, sat Molly Weasley. And Harry _had_ to gape at the Weasley matriarch – she was wearing a old-fashioned beige ball gown, but what _really_ caught his eye was the _incredibly_ low cut of the neck. The /u-shaped cut seemed to extend far, far beyond what Harry would consider _legal_ , let alone _appropriate_. Her enormous tits – the largest of all the women seated at the table – were practically spilling out, and her cleavage seemed to go on forever. It was _scandalous_ , but strangely enough, apart from a brief glance, no one seemed to notice the outfit. However, Harry could tell he wasn’t the only one that thought so – from Andromeda’s bemused glances at Molly, Harry could tell the Tonks matriarch thought so as well. Nonetheless, he had to admit Molly did look the part of a hostess – even if her look was more “ _come hither and fuck me”_ than “ _welcome to my house_.”

And then Molly’s eyes snapped up to his. “Oh, you can sit here, Harry dear,” she said in a melodious, husky voice. Harry gulped and looked at the seat she was pointing to – it was right at the foot of the table as well, between Molly and Hermione. Numbly, Harry walked to his chair, trying to ignore the glaring contest between Ginny and Gabrielle and plopped down. The table was bustling with noise and chatter.

“Hey, ‘Mione,” he said to his best friend on his right and she smiled sweetly at him. “Molly, Mrs Tonks,” he said as he greeted the women on his left, trying not to look at Molly’s deep cleavage. But it was a futile effort and Harry just _had_ to gaze upon that enticing valley – the dress she wore practically _drew_ attention there, and Harry felt his mouth go dry. For a moment, he had a sudden urge to bury his face into the confines of her dress and lick all around that amazing cleavage, but then he came to his senses and _tore_ his eyes away. He was getting erect. He looked guiltily at his girlfriend further up the table, but Ginny was too busy _not_ trying to look in Gabrielle’s (and therefore, his) direction so she had not even noticed him sneaking a peek at her mother’s breasts.

And just as he took his eyes of Molly’s breasts, he felt a hand creeping along his thigh. Sure enough, it was Molly’s hand. Harry groaned inwardly. _To think Ginny and I just reconciled,_ a sarcastic voice whispered in his head. Molly lightly stroked his thigh as she continued to talk to Andromeda, brushing her fingers right across, _almost_ touching his crotch, and then scratching lightly over his cotton pants as she brushed her palm _back_.

 _Tease_ , Harry thought grumpily as he hardened. Molly _really_ knew how to work him. He glanced briefly at the woman, and there was a naughty smile tugging at the corners of her lips, even as she kept up a casual conversation with Andromeda. Harry looked away quickly, only to look straight into Hermione’s warm brown eyes, and she was _still_ smiling at him. _God_ , Harry thought, as he continued to harden in his pants, _she looks gorgeous_.

And then Hermione dropped her fork under the table with a clatter.

“Whoops” she said, and giggled at no one in particular. Harry just stared as she dove under the table to retrieve it – her giggle had been _incredibly_ fake, and while Harry had heard her giggle before, she had never giggled like _that_. Then he felt an insistent tug on his pants and gasped. He leant back and glanced under the table. Hermione had her wand pointed _straight_ at his pants.

“’Mione, what…” he began to ask, then gasped again as his pants vanished in a _flash_. Followed shortly by his boxers.

 _Oh, crap_.

Harry was seated on the table, in front of fourteen other people, including his girlfriend, with only a shirt on and entirely naked from the waist down. Luckily for him, his entire lower body was covered by the dining table and it was extremely unlikely that anyone would venture near the tail end of the table anyway. Most of the dishes were up front. However, there _was_ one other person seated at his end of the dining table – Molly Weasley – who had a hand on his thigh, now suddenly naked. Hermione emerged from under the table and sat down with a smug smile.

Harry was bewildered. _What was that for_ , he mouthed at Hermione and she just smiled back at him.

 _Crap_.

And before he could draw upon either of his wands to conjure a new set of pants, Molly glanced in his direction as her hand made contact with naked skin. Harry looked helplessly at her. She had a full view of his profile, seated next to him as she was, and her eyes widened comically when they reached his waist.

She looked confusedly between Harry and his naked crotch, and weirdly ( _or perhaps predictably_ ), _smiled_ at him. She leaned over to him, her enormous cleavage now right in his field of vision as she whispered into his ear, “Oh, you naughty young pervert.”

 _Great_ , Harry thought, _now Molly thinks I’m a pervert and vanished my own pants because she was touching me_.

He glanced at Hermione and noticed that the _real_ pervert was looking resolutely away from him, conversing with Andromeda across the table.

Molly was still whispering huskily in his ear, “Mummy’s going to teach this pervert a lesson in manners. Mummy’s going to teach you how to _behave_ at the dinner table.”

He hardened.

And then felt Molly’s right hand settle _right_ on his crotch. She grabbed the base of his cock and _jerked_ her hand forward, _tugging_ his penis. The tugging and pulling continued for a few seconds until Harry was completely hard. His shaft had risen dramatically into the air. At roughly sixty degrees, his cock head made contact with the underside of the wooden table – cool to the touch – and it stopped Harry’s penis from popping up in full view of the dining guests.

Molly’s right hand was still stroking insistently along the top side of his shaft base. “Oh,” she whispered, “The pervert is _hard_ now, isn’t he? You like my hand stroking your big cock? You like it when I jerk you off in full view of my sons and my clueless husband, Harry?”

 _Such a slut_ , Harry thought, gritting his teeth at the pleasure. _God_ , he thought, _I just want to push this bitch on the table and drill her in front of everyone._ But he supposed that would be scandalous and would result in a considerable number of drawn wands. Sure, Arthur might appreciate it, but he doubted any of the other Weasleys would. And Gabrielle was eying him up like a piece of meat. Come to think of it, so was Hermione. And Harry had _no_ idea why she just vanished his pants. _Is it some sort of weird prank? Revenge for what I did to her in front of Ron?_

For a moment, Harry wondered if Molly and Hermione were working together – but then he perished the thought. He _knew_ Hermione and Molly were not necessarily the best of friends. And they weren’t sharing any conspiratorial glances or remarks. They were definitely not working in concert. He wondered if Hermione had even thought her actions through – he knew when it came to breaking the rules, the bushy-haired Gryffindor _always_ acted on impulse. He loved that unpredictable quality about her, but that sort of behavior always had repercussions. Harry was surprised Hermione hadn’t even _thought_ of the chance that Molly would see him utterly naked from the waist down.

Harry scooted closer to the dining table, until his abs were touching the edge of the table. His entire naked waist was now completely under the table, well away from sight. Molly was _still_ jacking him off though, her right hand stroking back and forth along the _lower_ half of his shaft. She was actually moving back and forth a bit with the force of her strokes and her breasts were actually bouncing _ever_ so slightly. And then _another_ hand tried to encircle the _top_ of his shaft, right at the bridge between his fat head and his shaft.

Harry glanced in Molly’s direction – she was still wearing a naughty smile, but her left hand was on the table and her right was tugging at his cock. _So who…_?

And with not inconsiderable dread, Harry looked around. Hermione was looking _straight_ at him, her eyes wild and her delicate features looking positively _delighted_. Sure enough, her left shoulder was moving back and forth.

Hermione was _palming_ the underside of his crown, stroking and caressing the sensitive skin, even as Molly gave him a rough tugjob around his base. _Oh crap_ , Harry thought, as he moaned softly at the double handjob, _I’ve got two hot women giving me a handjob, and I don’t think they know about each other_. _Crap_.

And Harry did not think they would appreciate knowing about each other. While Molly would probably shrug and accept it, Harry just _knew_ Hermione did not quite play well with others. And then, Hermione started stroking _down_ his shaft. Her left palm _pressed_ his cockhead up _against_ the cool wood along the underside of the dining table, and then _pushed_ down, stretching his foreskin deliciously as her palm travelled down the underside of his shaft.

Harry quickly pushed Molly’s arm away, just as Hermione reached the base of his cock. Molly smirked at him and set her right hand on the table, as she took over Hermione’s conversation with Andromeda. Hermione’s palm reached his base and then _curved_ down to rest on his balls. Hermione leaned in as she just _lay_ her hand on his balls.

“My goodness, Harry,” Hermione said in a low voice that sent shivers up his spine, “These are _enormous_.” She softly traced the curve of his right testicle with her fingernails and Harry hissed in pleasure. “They’re the size of tennis balls.”

“ _Hermione_ ,” Harry whispered frantically, “Molly is _right_ _here_. She can _see_ this.”

Hermione just smiled and her palm started ascending along the underside of his shaft. _So smooth_ , Harry thought as he shivered, _her skin feels so soft_.

Hermione’s fist curled around the base of his shaft. “My fingers don’t even touch!” she proclaimed delightedly, although it could barely be heard over the bustle around the dinner table. Dimly, Harry noticed that the Weasleys had started eating. Harry gingerly picked up his fork and knife, but just _couldn’t_ bring himself to start digging in. Hermione had started _tugging_ at his cock as well.

“Hermione,” Harry gasped, “Maybe you should start eating.”

Hermione continued to smile enigmatically at him. “Maybe,” she rejoined, “But I’d like some seasoning.”

And then she pushed her _right_ hand under the table. Harry had no idea where she was going with this.

With her left hand still around the base of his shaft, she swung his shaft _down_. His head pulled away from the underside of dining table and met what Harry realized was Hermione’s open right palm with a _slap_. Then she pulled it up again with her grip around Harry’s base, and swung down _again_ so that his sensitive, fat cockhead _smacked_ right onto her open palm for the second time. It felt _wonderful_ – if Hermione wanted to use Harry’s pole as a stick to smack her own palm, Harry wasn’t complaining.

“You like that, Harry?” Hermione whispered to him, “You like the sound your fat, throbbing cock makes as it smacks my hand?”

“Yes,” Harry moaned. He couldn’t believe how everyone at the table, including Molly Weasley (who was still talking to Andromeda), was so oblivious to the action under the table. The _smack-smack-smack_ sound of Harry’s crown clapping against Hermione’s palm was now perfectly audible, and Hermione’s arms were moving quite vigorously, but no one was paying them any mind, engaged in loud conversations as they were.

Suddenly, just as his lower head laid yet another _slap_ against Hermione’s tiny palm, she stopped. And her right palm moved to caress his _entire_ head. She was actually _rubbing_ her palm back and forth across his crown. Hermione moved both her hands off Harry’s cock and lifted them up over the table. Without anything to hold it down, his meat sprang back up and met the dining table with a loud _thud_.

 _That_ drew bewildered glances from Andromeda and even Angelina, to Andromeda’s left. Harry’s face burned and Molly chuckled knowingly. After a moment, they went back to their conversations. Harry looked askance at Hermione, who proudly displayed her right palm, which his penis had been slapping until a few seconds ago. It was _smeared_ with his pre-cum. Then she _licked_ it.

Harry gaped open-mouthed as Hermione licked her palm, and then her fingers, one after the other. Harry was certain his rod was so hard now it could bench press the entire dining table now. Hermione was smiling at him.

 _Okay_ , Harry thought, _note to self_ : _fuck the living daylights out of Hermione the next time I get the chance. I’ll wipe that smile right off her beautiful face._

Hermione leaned in and whispered huskily, “It’s _your_ fault you know. You left me gargling your semen the last time around. And now, I’m addicted to the taste.”

Just then, Harry felt a different hand settle on his cock. With shorter fingers, but larger than Hermione’s tiny hands. _Molly again_ , Harry thought, _great_ , _they’re double-teaming me without even realizing they’re double-teaming me_.

As Hermione moved away to eat her meal, Molly leaned in. “You shouldn’t jerk yourself off at the dining table, Harry. It tends to disturb the table.”

She paused and giggled. “In fact,” she said softly, mirth filling her voice, “You should let willing hands help. And stop pushing them away.”

And so, Molly started stroking up and down his shaft. Her fingers and palms caressed every inch of his cock as she circled around, sometimes dragging her fingernails across the sensitive underside, _caressing_ and _stroking_ his pole.

Harry moaned again. And Molly continued to beat him off with her right as she chattered away with Andromeda.

***

Gabrielle glanced at Harry often, much to his girlfriend’s annoyance, studying his features. Harry appeared to be a bit glassy-eyed and was staring off into space. _Poor man_ , Gabrielle thought, _he must feel so lonely in that corner of the table_.

She knew he _had_ noticed her as she came in – every other Weasley male at the table looked in her direction often, their faces going slack before regaining their senses moments later, much to Gabrielle’s own irritation – but _Harry_ wasn’t looking at her. Hermione Granger – who was looking _very_ pretty, in Gabrielle’s opinion – and Molly Weasley – wearing an utterly scandalous outfit for a woman her age ( _and those huge cow-tits_ , Gabrielle thought nastily) – leant in to whisper stuff to him occasionally, but he just wasn’t responding.

She sent a burst of aura in his direction, but it splashed uselessly against his wall of power. Gabrielle tensed at the feeling, expecting Harry to latch on and give her a _rush_ again, but he did not. He seemed pre-occupied. Gabrielle huffed – she was determined to speak to him at the after-party. _Perhaps it was a stupid idea to take his seat_ , she thought. She just had not wanted him to sit next to Ginny Weasley; instead, she was hoping he would take the seat next to _her_. Instead, Hermione Granger had taken the seat and her plan had been foiled.

Gabrielle turned around, her aura twanging as it retreated back into her body. That was when she noticed Ginny Weasley. The redhead was now staring at Gabrielle – not in _anger_ , as she was earlier – but in… _awe_. Her face was flushed and she was breathing heavily as she just _gazed_ at Gabrielle. Ginny’s eyes travelled down from Gabrielle’s eyes, to her lips, down to the nape of her neck, and then further _down_ …

Gabrielle frowned – while she had thrown her aura at Harry, a portion of it had obviously flung out in Ginny’s direction as well, seeing as how the redhead was seated right next to her. She _knew_ her aura had an effect on men, but not many women had acted like _this_ when engulfed by it.

Gabrielle looked around the table carefully – especially in Harry’s direction. She _had_ swung her aura that way, so Hermione and Molly should have been affected too. But neither Hermione – who was primly eating her meal – nor Molly, who was whispering in Harry’s ear, much to Gabrielle’s annoyance, was even _looking_ in her direction.

But Ginny was _still_ staring at her with that strange look on her face. Gabrielle did a quick mental check of the _women_ who she had noticed being affected by her aura. She could only think of two women – Professor Valreau at school and Ginny. And perhaps, Fleur.

 _What’s the connecting thread here?_ Gabrielle thought.

And then it struck her. Professor Valreau was married to a certain Mademoiselle Robitaille. And Fleur had told Gabrielle that she had experimented with women several times and enjoyed the sex. And when Gabrielle thought of it, the veela her mother introduced her to had always said her aura was particularly enthralling. Gabrielle knew veela – including her – swung both ways.

 _And so does Ginny_.

Gabrielle smiled in triumph.She gazed critically at Ginny and casually noticed that the redhead was _very_ attractive – with her busty figure and amazing ass. _Oh,_ Gabrielle thought, _I’m going to enjoy this._

Gabrielle leaned in and whispered to Ginny, “Like what you see, darling?”

Ginny shook her head as if trying to get water out of her ears. And then she seemed to snap out of her daze and snarled, “You wish, you little slut.”

“So,” Gabrielle continued conversationally, “Does Harry know his little witch is occasionally attracted to other witches?”

“You little…”

“I was wondering why you let him sleep around with _Fleur_ , of all people. Did you ask him for details later?” Gabrielle was so close to Ginny that their lips were almost touching. Ginny was breathing heavily again and her face was flushed, “Did you ask him how tight her vagina was? How amazing fucking Fleur felt like? Did you ask him for all that?”

Ginny blushed. Gabrielle smiled.

“Or did you ask about _me_?”

Ginny flushed even harder – her _ears_ were turning red now.

“You’re just trying to live vicariously through Harry, aren’t you?”

Ginny’s eyes flashed. “I’m definitely attracted to guys, you little…”

“Oh,” Gabrielle interrupted, “I’m not disputing that. I’m just wondering if you are also attracted to girls.”

Ginny looked away.

“ _You are_ ,” Gabrielle crowed, “Well, if you ever want to _test_ that attraction, I’m available.”

Ginny glanced defiantly at Gabrielle. “And you’d want my boyfriend in return, wouldn’t you?” she asked with false sweetness.

Gabrielle nodded.

“Keep dreaming,” Ginny snarled, and continued munching on her chicken. Gabrielle just smiled.

 _Just you wait_ , she thought, _Oh, you’ll bend. I am a veela, after all. And you’re no Harry Potter._

Now, Gabrielle just had to ask Harry for permission to start assimilating into his little _ménage a trois_ so that she could seduce the _hell_ out of Ginny. She couldn’t compete with _Harry_ , and did not _want_ to – she wanted _him_ much more than she wanted _Ginny_ – but she was pretty sure she wasn’t opposed to showing the redhead a thing or two about gentle feminine caresses.

 _Oh, she’ll bend_.

***

Molly was squeezing his balls lightly, _pushing_ her palm under one testicle, _weighing_ it, then palming the _other_. Meanwhile, Hermione’s tiny hands had returned to massaging all over his cockhead; she was palming and squeezing and _pinching_ away as she pleased. Her soft palms pushed his sensitive bulb this way and that, until he was oozing dollops of pre-cum over her fingers.

Harry was determinedly shoveling food into his mouth with shaking fingers. Andromeda had actually asked him if he was okay, and he had mumbled something in return. The two women seated on either side of him were using his cock like a _toy_ , tugging and pulling and stroking away like it _belonged_ to them. Harry supposed it was karmic payback of sorts – they were using _him_ as he used _them_ in the past – but it was such _heavenly_ torture. And it was _ridiculous_ that the two women didn’t even know they were sharing the toy.

Molly whispered stuff like, “Your willy is so _huge_ Harry!” and “Oh, I can’t _wait_ to feel this monstrous thing stuffing me silly again!”

And _Hermione_ whispered stuff like, “Wouldn’t _you_ like to have this cock fucking my tight cunt again, Harry?” and “Do you want to feel my lips wrapping across your enormous cock, Harry? Will it even _fit_?”

And it was turning him _on_. Harry had _never_ thought a double handjob could feel so good… well, he _had_ , but this matched his expectations and _exceeded_ them.

Then, Hermione, of all people – she was the _least_ experienced woman Harry had slept with – took it to a wholly different _level_. With, one hand, she gripped the bottom of his mushroom cockhead and laid the flat palm of her other hand _straight_ on his piss-slit. And she started _pushing_ his head with her hand right against her palm so that his sensitive urethral opening was _grinding_ against her flat palm. She twisted the crown all over the place as she _polished_ the tip of his cock with her palm and it felt _amazing_.

And then she moved her palm off, only to grip the tip with her fingers. And then started _massaging_ the _edge_ of his piss-slit with what Harry presumed was her forefinger. Molly was still massaging and stroking his balls.

The most erotic part was that all of the action was happening _under_ the table – Harry couldn’t see _what_ Hermione was doing to his cock, but he sure as hell could _feel_ it. And then, Hermione started _pressing_ down as she circled his penile meatus with her slender finger.

 _No way_ , Harry thought incredulously, _no way she’s going that far…_

Hermione _pushed_ down with her finger, right against his _eye_. He was practically _oozing_ pre-cum over her finger now, but her finger seemed to be _pushing_ back in. And then it _sank_ in. Her finger actually _pressed_ into his urethral opening and Harry moaned softly. _Fuck_ , Harry thought, _that feels… fuck!_

He gazed in astonishment at Hermione – she was driving him _crazy_. The girl was biting her lower lip in an incredibly sexy fashion, just _looking_ at him as her eyes brimmed with _lust_.

And then a _third_ of her finger sank right into his slit, and the sensitive skin _hugged_ her slender finger.

She _twisted_ her finger, _pulling_ at the _inside_ of his cock, and _pushed_ it so that his inner skin _stretched_ and he hissed out in pleasure.

“Oh,” Hermione whispered hotly, “You like that? You like me _fucking_ your giant penis with my little _finger_? You like me _molesting_ your _eye_ , you bastard?”

Harry was squirming in his seat now. Molly was squeezing even harder on his balls. In a daze, he noticed that Molly was smiling at him.

 _It’s not you,_ Harry thought, _It’s this insane best friend on my other side_.

After a full minute of fingering _inside_ his penis – with Harry squirming and moaning and looking at his food with dazed eyes – Hermione withdrew it, _slowly, teasingly_ , millimeter by millimeter. Until it finally popped out of his cock and Harry shuddered in place.

And Harry stared, stunned by the _sweet_ torture, as Hermione raised her finger to her lips. It was practically _soaked_ with his lubrication and she _slurped_ on it with a grin. “Oh, I love this seasoning!” Hermione said happily, and Harry groaned.

Just like that, the dinner was _over_. Arthur announced something that sounded like “Time for a party!” to his sons and Harry barely even registered it. He was _horny_ as _hell_.

And then, Molly’s hands left his balls and he gasped. Everyone at the table stood up and shuffled out of the hall as Harry just sat and gaped. Ron snatched a leftover chicken leg and munched on it as he walked out with the rest of the table. And just as most of the dinner guests had moved out, Harry began to hear cracks of apparition outside.

 _Great_ , he thought, _it’s time for the after-party_.

Ron paused at the door and looked back at Hermione and Harry, who were still seated at the table.

“You guys coming?” he asked.

Harry cringed at the unintentional double entendre. “No,” he said grumpily.

“Of course, Ron,” Hermione answered warmly, speaking over Harry, “I just have to finish my soufflé.” And she held up a glass bowl, which sure enough, had soufflé in it.

Ron shrugged, munched on his chicken and walked out. More cracks of apparition echoed outside and the Weasley courtyard bustled with the noise of the arriving guests.

When everyone, including Molly Weasley, had left – with Molly swaying her amazing ass seductively at him, winking as she moved out - Harry stood up angrily, holding onto his erect cock and _slamming_ it on the table.

“It looks so _angry_ ,” Hermione said, laughing.

“You… you…” Harry was so _desperate_ for relief right now that he had no idea what to say.

And Hermione _poured_ the remainder of her soufflé on the _tip_ of his cock – it was mostly just tiny chunks and custard, which drizzled over his cock. Harry just gaped as the bushy-haired witch _lifted_ his cock with both hands, angled it over her plate so that it was _dripping_ custardand _pushed_ her lips against his crown in an open-mouthed _kiss_. Her wet tongue licked pleasant circles around his head and her cheeks caved inwards as she sucked _hard_ on his dome with her lips stretched impossibly wide. After a few _seconds_ , she withdrew, her lips _pulling_ at his bulbous tip as she withdrew with a loud _slurp_.

And then she just let go. His erect cock bounced angrily onto the table again.

Hermione got up, smoothed her dress and turned to leave.

“Where are you going?” Harry asked, bewildered and _horny_.

She turned to him a smiled naughtily again. Her eyes were gleaming with humor. “I really just had to finish the soufflé”, she said, then _winked_ at him and left the hall.

Harry was positive he had just been blue-balled for the first time.

 _That woman_ , he thought as he just stood there with an erect penis, s _he’s going to drive me crazy._

Nonetheless, through his haze of lust, Harry did notice a warm feeling bubbling in his chest – very similar to the one he felt around Ginny. _Crap_ , he thought, _I think I’m falling in love. Again_.

***

Gabrielle _loved_ this powerful feeling. She was letting her aura flare around Ginny, and the redheaded witch fell for it every single time. Gabrielle would fling her aura, looping it around Ginny’s magic and _pulling_ and Harry’s girlfriend just turned and _drooled_ at her every time she did that.

And Ginny was trying to stay as far away as possible, mixing in with the crowd, but Gabrielle _delighted_ in not letting her have any peace.

Eventually, Ginny retreated into a secluded corner, outside the marquee where there were no guests milling around. _Perfect,_ Gabrielle thought, _she’s playing right into my hands_.

Gabrielle walked around the tent casually and pounced on Ginny as soon as she was within reach, who was facing away from her.

She pushed Ginny right against the stiff sheet of the tent. They could hear the sounds of the party starting up on the other side, but there was no one on their side of the tent. Ginny struggled, but the human witch was no match for Gabrielle’s inhuman strength. Gabrielle raised Ginny’s wrists high above her head and _pushed_ her left leg right between Ginny’s thighs so that Ginny’s legs were locked in place around her own.

Ginny’s massive D-cups were _pushing_ against Gabrielle’s smaller C-cups and Gabrielle could _feel_ the redhead’s nipples poking against her own even through their clothes.

“Not wearing much underneath, are we?” Gabrielle crooned.

“Neither are you,” Ginny snarled back, her face flushed.

Gabrielle started grinding her thigh back and forth between Ginny’s legs, right against the witch’s crotch. Ginny moaned and then looked away. Gabrielle softly leaned in and _kissed_ the cheek facing away from her, inhaling Ginny’s sweet rosy scent.

And Gabrielle started trailing soft kisses down Ginny’s neck as the redhead squirmed and gasped. Just as the veela reached the crook of Ginny’s neck, Gabrielle pulled away just as suddenly as she had pounced. She let go of Ginny’s hands and the witch slumped against the tent, her heaving bosom and flushed skin signs of her obvious arousal.

Gabrielle smiled at Ginny.

“Oh, Ginny,” Gabrielle said, “Just agree with me and spare yourself this torture.”

“Never,” Ginny gasped.

Gabrielle shrugged and started walking back to the main party. Just as she rounded the corner, she looked over her shoulder at Ginny, who was still slumped against the tent and said, “Don’t worry, _mon amour_. I have to go back to Beauxbatons tomorrow, but you shall see me soon. And next time, I’m joining your relationship with Harry, whether you want it, or not.”

***

Harry desperately searched for Ginny – he needed some relief, and he needed it _now_. But his girlfriend was nowhere to be seen. Harry was rushing through the crowd, greeting people hazily as he kept one hand firmly on his crotch, trying to angle his clothed penis down so that no one would see the _very_ obvious tent down his right trouser leg.

When he saw that Ginny was nowhere to be found, he started looking around for the women Ginny had given permission for him to be with. Hermione, annoyingly enough, was chatting away happily with Angelina and Katie, who Harry was surprised to see at the party. He supposed Angelina had invited her over.

Fleur, on the other hand, was dancing happily with Bill and Harry had no desire to rain on their parade a _second_ time around, even if the couple claimed they enjoyed it the first time.

 _Molly_ , Harry thought desperately, as he looked around, _please, please…_

He spotted Arthur, who was engaged in what appeared to be a very serious conversation with the Minister of Magic and a dignified woman Harry could not place. Truth be told, he was amazed at the turnout for the party – it was a sign of the times to come; the Weasleys seemed to be _the_ premier family in English Wizarding Society at the moment. All of the prominent families seemed to be there – the Longbottoms, the Lovegoods and the MacMillans. Several higher ranking officials from the Ministry of Magic were roaming around sipping wine. He even spotted some of the less savory families skulking around – the Zabinis and the Greengrasses, for instance.

Harry stumbled through the crowd, still searching for _someone_ , _anyone_ to please him.

 _The problem being influenced by the Elder Wand,_ Harry thought angrily, _is that you never get relief from masturbating by yourself. Dammit._

And then he spotted Molly. She seemed to be _well_ away from the crowd, sitting at the edge of the open bar with a thoughtful look on her face, surveying the party with a proud smile. She seemed to be _basking_ in the occasion. _Holy crap_ , Harry thought, _she looks like a million bucks_. _I’m surprised no one has asked her to dance_.

But he was glad. She was sitting in a conveniently dark corner of the bar-shelf, on a stool right against the hedge. He would never have spotted her if he wasn’t specifically looking for her.

He _skipped_ towards Molly and circled around the bar so that he was approaching the Weasley matriarch from behind, along the hedge. _That barstool is so tiny_ , he thought incredulously as he approached the darkened corner from where the woman was surveying her guests, _her ass is spilling all over the place. Good god, I love that ass._

Harry eventually snuck up right behind Molly, but she was unaware of his presence and continued to observe the crowd. Harry briefly surveyed the crowd as well – no one was looking in their direction. The nearest person was an elderly witch – but she was a few meters to their left and was snoring away, slumped over the bar shelf. And either way, Harry was standing in the pitch black space behind Molly, so while someone _could_ make his silhouette out, they wouldn’t be able to spot what he was doing unless they came _really_ close.

So Harry dropped his pants and stepped over them. His penis sprang out, _begging_ for some action. And Harry obliged – he grabbed his cock, went over to Molly and started _tapping_ against her pillowy ass with his penis. Her ass started bouncing delightfully with each _smack_ of his cock.

Molly gave an _eep_ of surprise and turned around, only to notice Harry. She relaxed, and her eyes travelled down his body, only to widen as she saw him tapping her ass with his meat.

“Harry,” she hissed, “What _are_ you doing? All these people…”

Harry _pushed_ his cock against her ass, _loving_ the feeling of her clothed backside _melt_ against his cock and Molly squealed. He slapped his hands around her front, grabbing her tits and shaking them with his hands as he watched her cleavage bounce.

“Didn’t bother you at the dining table, did it, Molly?” Harry asked harshly.

Molly blushed.

“Now,” Harry said harshly, “Let’s finish what you started.”

He _pulled_ Molly back so that most of her gorgeous ass was pushing into him – Molly reached out behind her and grabbed his hips in surprise, leaning her back against his chest with her thighs still on the stool. Harry then stopped mauling her clothed breasts and flicked his wrist so that his phoenix feather wand, previously holstered to his forearm, appeared in his hand. He pointed the wand right underneath her ass and her gown _tore_ as a long, vertical slit appeared in the dress underneath her buttocks. She was still in a sitting position, so practically no one in front of her could see it.

“Harry!” Molly squealed again, “This dress is _expensive_!”

“Don’t particularly care at the moment,” Harry said nonchalantly as he swiped his cock down her fleshy cheeks so that it was now horizontal _underneath_ her, pressing _upwards_. He bent his knees and angled his cock up, pushing it through the tear in her gown so that his head _smushed_ against her naked ass. He prodded around her rump with his cock, trying to find her pussy. And eventually, he did.

Molly was still only half-wet at this point, so she gasped as his fat head parted her hanging outer lips as it tried to bury into her twat.

“Harry,” she panted, “The others… they’ll see…”

“Don’t care,” Harry said abruptly, twisting his hips so that his cock snuggled further up her pussy. His head burst past her lips and Molly screamed softly.

“You _pervert_!” she exhaled. Her vagina seemed to be working overtime as it started pumping out juices at Harry’s welcome invasion, “Everyone’s going to think I’m a _slut_!”

“Aren’t you?” Harry rejoined and _slammed_ up so that half his cock was buried in her quim. “You _did_ tease me and _use_ this cock at dinner, you know. Right in front of _your_ family.”

Molly half-chuckled, half-gasped. “I suppose,” she admitted, “But I guess that makes me _your_ slut.”

Harry gave another might push and his balls _clapped_ against her ass as his entire cock smashed into her now sufficiently wet vagina. Molly pushed her back further against him, squishing her rump against his crotch. She turned her face sideways and Harry noticed that her cheeks were flush and her eyes looked _wild_.

“Did mummy make this naughty boy horny?” she asked sultrily. “Did mummy turn her naughty little pervert on?”

“Yep,” Harry said, as her pussy _clung_ to his shaft. He started rotating his hips, _grinding_ into her now-gushing twat.

“Mummy is so sorry,” Molly gasped out, “How can she make up for it, hmm?”

Harry started _pushing_ in and out with his hands on either side of her hips, holding her in place as he started _fucking_ her.

“Oh, _Morgana_!” Molly groaned, “I… _never_ … get used… to this… _fuck_ … size!”

“I don’t intend to keep to this pace forever,” Harry said and started moving his hips much more rapidly, _slamming_ in and out of her cunt.

Molly bent forward on the stool, now _smushing_ her breasts against the bar shelf as she _moaned_.,“You _brute_! You _bastard_!”

“You’re one _sexy_ Mommy!” Harry said happily as he felt her cunt begin to quiver around his shaft. He couldn’t see the penetration from his position behind her, but his cock was coming away _slick_ with her arousal, so he knew she loved this as well. “And to think you were against this a few _minutes_ ago.”

He imitated her voice, “ _Oh, Harry, everyone’s going to see us!”_ and then crowed, “Look at you _now_!”

Harry then tightened his grip on her hips and bent his knees so that his cock _pulled_ out until only the head remained in her wet quim. Then _jumped_ up and his cock _slammed_ deep into her pussy even as his feet left into the ground. Molly actually jerked forward as his cockhead bashed her cervix and then settled down again as Harry landed.

“Harry, you… _you_ … _fuck!_ ” Molly moaned in reply.

Harry was now practically _jump-thrusting_ into her pussy (he laughed at the word he just made up) now, sheathing his rigid cock spectacularly into her cunt each time. He loved the feeling – he actually _floated_ for a second as he _parted_ her entire clinging passage with his cock.

And on his tenth jump, the barstool actually keeled over and fell. Molly clutched the shelf in desperation as her feet landed on the ground and Harry, unconcerned, just kept slamming in. She was now bent over the shelf like a _whore_ , her clothed backside slapping against Harry’s mid-section as he hammered home over and over.

“Now _this_ is more _like_ it!” Harry said happily. He started pistoning into her, doubling his pace effortlessly. Molly started shuddering against the shelf, her chest was now right _on_ it as she scratched at the tiled surface.

“ _Hey_ _Molly_!” a female voice called out to their right.

***

Molly _tried_ to look around, but Harry kept slamming in and out. “Harry,” she gasped, “ _Someone_ …”

“Molly!” the voice said again quite happily and practically right beside her now, “Whatshoo doing?”

“Mrs. Tonks!” Harry’s voice said happily, much to Molly’s incredulity. She panted and _gushed_ as he kept pounding into her. Molly _wanted_ to push the _brute_ away, but she couldn’t _move_. His cock was pulverizing her cunt now, and it felt _heavenly_.

She heard a barstool scrape across the ground. Then Andromeda’s flushed face swam into her view, as Andromeda bent over the shelf right beside Molly. “HEY!” Andromeda said happily, “HOWSH MY MOLLY!”

Molly smelt the overpowering scent of alcohol issue from Andromeda’s mouth. “You’re… drunk!” she panted.

“Thanks for shielding us from the crowd, Mrs. Tonks!” Harry said, in between the muffled _slaps_ that he was making as he pounded her from behind.

Through her lust-crazed haze, Molly noticed Andromeda look immensely confused. “Whatshoo two doing?” she asked, her voice now slurred. She was completely sloshed.

“Playing a game,” Harry said and _just kept fucking_.

Andromeda leaned in to whisper into Molly’s ear. “If you squint just right,” she giggled, “You can see Harry’s arse! Itsh sho tight!”

 _Of course you can see his arse, Andromeda_ , Molly thought incredulously, _He’s naked from the waist down and fucking my cunt as we speak!_

And Molly felt Harry’s fingers _dig_ into her ass. _Oh no_ , Molly thought at the familiar grip, _he’s going to speed up!_

Harry’s pace nearly quadrupled – he was _pushing_ her into the shelf now as he slammed in and out of her pussy like a maniac. He seemed to be _touching_ and _fucking_ her entire insides at once, _destroying_ her vagina so thoroughly that only _he_ could ever use it later. She dimly heard Andromeda chatter away about something inane, and she did not _care_.

“Oh, oh OH OH OH!” she screamed, each “oh” growing louder and louder. If it wasn’t for the fact that the music was playing so loudly at the main tent, _everyone_ would have heard her moaning like a _bitch_ by now. And then sparksseemed to shoot up and down her entire body and she _shuddered_.

“Squirting _again_!” Harry gloated just as Molly yelled “ _Cumming!_ ”

And before she had even stopped squirting, Harry unloaded. He buried his penis in her cock-hungry tunnel as his head lay right at her cervical opening and _streams_ of semen shot right into her even as her orgasm seemed to go on and _on_.

***

Harry _mauled_ her ass as they both came down from their respective highs. Harry eventually stopped squirting after what seemed like an _hour_ of pleasure to her, although it had only been a few minutes since his orgasm began. Molly was quivering pleasantly, still feeling the aftershocks of her orgasm and _sighed_ as Harry’s cock _slid_ out her tight passage. He slapped his slick cock down on her bent over ass and _wiped_ it on her dress, leaving a wet splatter of their combined juices on her gown.

“Everyone’s going to see this and they’re going to _know_ the hostess was fucked silly,” Harry said happily.

Molly pushed herself off the shelf, wearily and turned her face to him. Harry kissed her gently.

Then they drew off each other and looked around curiously. Apart from Andromeda, who was now slumped over the bench and snoring, no one had _seen_ them.

“Well, that was a bit of good luck,” Harry said and Molly nodded mutely. He summoned his pants, put them on and walked right into the crowd as Molly merely sat beside a sleeping Andromeda, still trying to comprehend what had just happened.

***

Harry danced and talked the night away. He spent a lot of time just talking to Aurors and officials from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, trying to make inroads into the Ministry even before he graduated from Hogwarts. He studiously avoided Xenophilius Lovegood as the man tried to ask him about the Hallows. Although, he did stop to talk to Luna and other students from Hogwarts that had come to the party.

Surprisingly though, most of his dances had been with Gabrielle and Hermione. He looked around for Ginny, but she just sat in a corner and _glared_ at Gabrielle.

At his seventh turn with Gabrielle, Harry finally snapped and asked, “So what did you do?”

Gabrielle looked innocently at him and Harry gave her a flat glare. She giggled. “Just trying to persuade your girlfriend to let me join your relationship,” she said happily.

Harry just stared. After a while, he murmured, “Gabrielle, it takes more than a bit of sex to form a relationship.”

“Indeed,” Gabrielle said as they twirled around, “And I feel it.”

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Gabrielle _hugged_ him tighter as she continued to spin with him. “’Arry,” she said firmly, “I _know_ you don’t love me yet, but _I_ do. I just… _know_ , myself. You helped me _transform_. We made _love_ for an entire _night_. And we _connected_. My magic _touched_ yours. We connected on a level _far_ deeper than the bond you share with your _girlfriend_.”

Harry sighed. “Yeah,” he admitted, “I suppose that’s true. But I’m _not_ letting go of Ginny.”

“I know,” Gabrielle said and smirked, “Which is why I am trying to persuade the stubborn girl. I need _your_ permission though.”

“My permission?” Harry asked, puzzled. After a beat, he continued, “Wait… how, _exactly_ , are you trying to… persuade… her?”

“I’m seducing her, of course,” Gabrielle replied immediately.

Harry gaped. “You’re… uh…”

“You _do_ know your girlfriend is bisexual, don’t you?” Gabrielle asked.

Harry continued to gape and the half-veela sighed. “Oh,” she said meekly, “Well, she _is_ attracted to women. Don’t get me wrong – she’s _also_ attracted to _men_ … and especially you. And I’m _not_ competing with you. I’m just trying to persuade her so I can be with _you_.”

Harry was stunned at her bluntness. “So… you want to make this… some kind of _true_ _ménage a trois_?” he asked. She nodded.

“Fine,” he said, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but sure… I guess you could… uh… work on Ginny if she’s open to a _third_ person in the relationship.”

Gabrielle smiled and kissed his cheek with a naughty smile. Then she let go of him and sauntered away, her lustrous hair shimmering as she walked towards her parents, who were at a table nearby. Harry stared after her. _I’d have to be crazy to say no_ , he thought happily.

***

His conversation with Hermione was _far_ more enlightening, despite its short length.

“So, uh, the thing at the dinner table,” Harry began and Hermione just raised an eyebrow as she sipped a butterbeer across the table. They were in a corner of the tent, away from prying ears. By now, he had taken her around the dance floor several times. Ron was dancing and laughing with Padma Patil, but the surprising thing was – Hermione wasn’t even _looking_.

“Just a prank, Harry,” Hermione said and giggled, “Don’t get your panties in a twist. Not that panties will fit around that _monster_ anyway.”

“Hermione!” Harry said, “I… Ron… are you going to _tell_ him?”

Hermione sighed and looked away. “No,” she said.

“Then…” Harry prodded.

“Harry,” she said, looking straight into his eyes, “I don’t think I’m in love with…”

She trailed away and Harry stared, completely taken aback.

“… Ron?” he finished for her.

She nodded. Then she got up, face entirely flushed and practically _ran_ out of the tent.

Harry was about to follow her, but then Ginny came by and cornered him.

“What did that little French whore say to you?” she demanded.

Harry kept his face studiously blank. “Nothing”, he said quickly. _Too quickly_ , he thought and cringed.

Ginny just huffed and held out her hand. Harry smiled, held her hand and got up, heading out to the dance floor with her.

“Harry,” Ginny said suddenly, “Promise me… I’ll _always_ be your last dance.”

Harry just kissed her worried face and said, “If you so desire it, love, you can keep me all to yourself forever.”

Ginny blushed and smiled. _Merlin_ , Harry thought, _she’s beautiful_.

“Well,” she said, “I don’t care if you… _dance_ … with others, as long as you keep saying things like that to me.”

Harry grinned, then hugged her close to him as they started twirling around in tune with the music.

***


	8. Actor

 

_Diagon Alley, in July_

A chime sounded just as Harry opened the door to enter Ollivander’s abode. As always, the old wandmaker emerged from the shadows to greet him.

“Ah, Harry Potter,” Ollivander said, “Welcome.”

“Sir,” Harry greeted with a nod of his head. The old man looked as serene as ever – the last time Harry had seen him, Ollivander had endured quite an ordeal trapped in Malfoy Manor to be interrogated by Voldemort – he had been utterly disheveled and frightened.

“I hope you’re doing well, sir,” Harry said.

“Indeed, Harry Potter,” Ollivander replied, “Thanks, in part, to you.”

“I wish I’d gotten there sooner,” Harry said sincerely.

Ollivander waved him off. “You know what they say about being late, Mister Potter,” he said, “Better than never. Spare yourself the worry, Mister Potter – I’m in fine shape for a man my age.”

“Of course,” Harry said.

“So, Mister Potter,” Ollivander said, “What can I do for you today? I do hope that marvelous wand of yours is still in working order.”

Harry pulled out his phoenix feather wand. “Yeah,” he said, “It is. I’m actually here because I needed… uh… do you make holsters? The one I have is an inherited one from the late Mrs Tonks-Lupin. I was just wondering…”

“I _do_ make wand holsters, Mr Potter,” Ollivander said, “I would be a poor wandmaker if I did not. I even make ones laced with charms that are designed to defend against disarming curses and summoning charms.”

“Could I see them?” Harry asked.

Ollivander nodded and waved his wand. A whole set of leather holsters made their way over to the counter from parts unknown. Harry started inspecting them, one after the other.

“Doing a bit of early shopping, Mr Potter?” Ollivander asked him curiously.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “The Hogwarts book lists are out. Figured I’d come here early and do some shopping before the back-to-school crowds start moving in.”

“A wise plan,” Ollivander said with a nod.

“Well, that,” Harry said awkwardly, “And I just wanted to keep away from the… er… media.”

“Ah, the burden of celebrity,” Ollivander said with a humorous edge, “So the Weasleys are not here?”

Harry shook his head, as he inspected a particularly attractive black holster. “No,” he said, “The Weasleys – bless them – are always a wee bit late when it comes to stuff like this. Just thought I’d come in by myself. I go to muggle London quite often – just thought I’d do some shopping on the way back.”

Harry took put the black holster down. _After all_ , he thought, _I’m not really here to shop for holsters._ He was here to try and determine if Ollivander could help him with his specific problem. But he couldn’t go about asking the wandmaker _directly_ – he had to do it in subtle, roundabout fashion.

“Actually,” Harry said, “Sir, I wanted to ask you about… wands.”

“Ah, wand lore,” Ollivander said, clasping his hands together, “Always a pleasure discussing that fascinating subject with you, Mister Potter. I believe the last time we discussed wands was when you asked me about that _fascinating_ Gregorovitch creation the Dark Lord tried to wield.”

Harry nodded.

“I wonder what happened to that spectacular wand,” Ollivander mused.

“It was Dumbledore’s,” Harry said, “Well, Dumbledore’s wand by way of Grindelwald.”

“Of course,” Ollivander said, “Do you know what became of it?”

“It turned to dust when I… finished… Voldemort,” Harry lied without skipping a beat.

“A pity,” Ollivander said, “I would have paid a fortune to study that wand.”

“Actually,” Harry said, and brandished a _second_ wand in his other hand, “It was _this_ wand I needed to talk to you about.”

“One of mine,” Ollivander said, peering at the stick, “Hawthorne and unicorn core. A wand that once belonged to Draco Malfoy – a fugitive now, of course.”

“I… disarmed him and won it for myself,” Harry said, “When we escaped Malfoy Manor.”

“Ah, of course,” Ollivander rejoined.

“Well, the thing is – I just want to know if the wand can… _influence_ … me in some way,” Harry said in a rush, “I mean… Draco Malfoy was not exactly a… nice wizard. And I don’t want his wand to make me… different.”

Ollivander smiled. “You believe the wand is influencing you, Mr Potter?”

Harry pretended to frown and think. “It _might_ be. I mean, I have behaved a bit terribly while wielding it. And you seemed to think wands have _memories_ , sir… at least you said so the last time we met. So I was just…”

Ollivander interrupted him, “Mr Potter, I never said a wand has _memories_. I said it has a _sense_ of ownership. A wand lends what allegiance it _can_ to the man who wins it through combat. But it shall _never_ work as well for its conqueror as it does for its owner.”

Harry nodded. “But,” he prompted, “ _Can_ a wand influence its… conqueror?”

Ollivander chuckled. “Mr Potter,” he said in an indulgent tone, “A wand does not _live_. It does not have a _mind_. No wand that I know of is capable of influence, just as it is not capable of _thought_. It is a tool – a phenomenal tool that has a peculiar sense of _magic_ and that can channel magic – but a tool nonetheless. It takes great skill to make one, just as it takes great skill to wield one in grand fashion, but I am not vain enough to allege that a mere wand is capable of self-awareness.”

Harry sighed. “Well, sir,” he said, “That’s a relief. I did not want… I just wanted to know that Draco’s wand was not having some sort of weird effect on my mind.”

Ollivander smiled. Harry grinned right back and pocketed both wands. He picked up the black holster, paid for it, thanked the elderly wandmaker and walked out of Ollivanders’.

***

 _Well,_ Harry thought morosely as he wandered around Diagon Alley, _that was a dead end_. Obviously, Ollivander had no idea about how powerful the Elder Wand was – more than ever, Harry was convinced that his wand was one of a kind. The Deathstick had taught him, showed him images – but Harry just intuitively _knew_ it wasn’t _living_.

Not in the conventional sense of the word “living” in any case. Either way, in some ways, his brief foray into Ollivander’s shop was a success – he _had_ determined the Elder Wand was one of a kind, had bought a new wand holster and had even managed to question the wandmaker without arousing his suspicions. Yet, his problem remained.

Harry _needed_ to know more about how to control the Elder Wand. He supposed there were two ways to go about it now that he knew the foremost expert on wands in England had no idea about the Deathstick – he needed to go to its former master. He had to get in touch with either Dumbledore’s portrait, or someone who _knew_ Dumbledore back when he was alive.

In the meantime, though, Harry supposed he could get some actual shopping done.

***

_An hour later_

Just as Harry stepped out of Flourish and Blotts, armed with textbooks for his seventh year, a voice drew him out of his reverie.

“Harry!”

He looked around and spotted a tall, dark-skinned girl in a cotton tee and track pants walking straight towards him.

“Angelina,” he greeted with a grin, “What’re you doing wandering around the Alley?”

“I could ask you the same question,” she said, flashing her pearly whites at him. Then she looked down at the text books in his arms. “Going back to Hogwarts, eh?”

Harry nodded and shrunk the books. “Got to complete my education,” he said.

“Pish-posh,” Angelina said mischievously, “The Savior of England needs an education?”

Harry smiled and then shrugged. “Would be nice to go back to school,” he said wistfully, “Seems like a nice break from… what came before.”

Angelina’s smile vanished. “Yeah,” she said seriously, “I suppose it would.”

He started walking alongside Angelina.

“Judging by what McGonagall’s planning though,” Angelina said with a smile, “Doesn’t seem like it’ll be a quiet year.”

Minerva McGonagall, ever since she had become Headmistress, had supervised the rebuilding of Hogwarts. Apparently, the school was now back to its former shape, though it was in desperate need of funds to pay for the rebuilding project. And in order to foot the bill, McGonagall had done some savvy marketing and initiated some really clever proposals.

Apparently, Hogwarts would be hosting a large inter-school tournament of sorts – not quite a Triwizard Tournament, but close. The tournament would also be broadcast on the new WWW invention – the Chart-O-Vision that George was so busy manufacturing these days and that were quickly filling up most wizarding households. The wizarding equivalent of a television was selling like hotcakes – according to George, they would mint _millions_ , and several international entrepreneurs were starting up brand new channels to broadcast on the silver screens.

Harry did think they needed to come up with a new name though – the “WWW Chart-O-Vision” sounded a bit tedious and weird to him. Although, they _did_ look like large silver paper when Harry really thought about it – much more versatile than muggle televisions, in any case. They could be expanded to cover an entire wall, or contracted to fit on a single finger. George reckoned they would soon be able to make it an entirely immersive experience by feeding images directly to the brain, in a manner similar to a Pensieve.

The recording end of the Chart-O-Vision was a bit more complicated and less affordable to the average wizard though. The Recording Orbs – spherical orbs that recorded with one of their hemispheres and stored it in the other hemisphere - were slightly similar to omnioculars in how they _worked_ , but the runes and material involved were _far_ more complicated and intricate. As such, wizarding channels would have to invest far more to buy the orbs – and each orb had to be controlled by a wand-wielding wizard.

McGonagall had allegedly partnered with one of those upcoming channels to broadcast the European Inter-School Tournament of Sorcery. It would involve inter-school quizzes, duels and a round-robin Quidditch tournament. It was a very ambitious project and Harry _had_ to admire McGonagall for coming up with it and following through at such short notice. According to the business sections of the Daily Prophet, it was a canny move – the sponsorships for the tournament would ensure that Hogwarts would be able to pay off all of the debts involved. Moreover, the tournament would improve the tarnished image of British Wizarding Society from the previous war.

So far, Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, Mahoutokoro – a Japanese wizarding school - and the Salem Witches’ Institute – which, despite its name, taught both boys and girls in the United States - had volunteered to take part in the tournament. Harry supposed that meant Hogwarts would be playing host to quite a few students next year – although McGonagall _did_ say that the students would be using portkeys or Floo, rather than actually staying over like they did for the Triwizard Tournament.

Additionally, Beauxbatons and Hogwarts had instituted an exchange program, wherein any student who chooses to do so can opt for an “exchange year” at the other school. Of course, that had caused Ginny to go absolutely spare when Fleur announced, quite proudly, that Gabrielle would be one of the first exchange students and would be staying at Hogwarts for the next year.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “McGonagall’s really shaking up the entire school.”

“So, Harry,” Angelina said casually, “Want to head over to my place, if you’re done shopping?”

Harry glanced at her for a moment, then asked, “Uh… you don’t stay with George?”

Angelina shook her head. “Well, we’re only dating. Haven’t really decided to take the next big step. He’s busy with the whole Chart-O-Vision launch thing, and I’m busy preparing for my first season at the Holyhead Harpies. I have a nice, cozy place in Guildford.”

“Surrey?” Harry asked curiously.

“Yeah,” Angelina said proudly, “I’m renting it, of course, but it’s a home.”

“I…”

“Relax, Harry,” Angelina said, amused by his hesitation, “I’m not going to eat you up. I’d just like for you to come over is all.”

“Sure,” Harry said. Angelina smiled and then asked, “Side-along apparate?”

“I guess,” Harry said.

Angelina suddenly moved into his personal space and _hugged_ him, pressing her soft breasts right into his chest. Harry felt a familiar squeezing sensation, and they were suddenly in Angelina’s living room in Guildford, Surrey.

***

Harry looked around, noticing the open kitchen, a sturdy wooden dining table and a nice green couch in the cozy little hall. He then noticed Angelina was _still_ hugging him – her dark brown hair, strung into a ponytail, waved around his face and with a start, he realized she was laying soft kisses around his neck. Her hands were sliding all over his back, feeling every cut and curve of his muscles.

“I never realized you were so… _fit_ ,” Angelina whispered.

“Uh…” Harry said, completely taken aback.

“Don’t worry, Harry,” the Chaser crooned, “George and I have… an open relationship. And he _loves_ it when I tell him about these little encounters with other men.”

Her hands were now feeling up his rear. She was grinding her own crotch against him – they were roughly the same height – and Harry could feel her toned legs pressed right against his own.

“Uh… Ginny…” Harry tried to protest.

“Cleared it with your girlfriend,” Angelina said naughtily, “Turns out she’s _all_ for you sleeping around.”

 _Maybe Gabrielle’s right_ , Harry thought, _Maybe Ginny really is trying to bang other women through me_.

Not that he was complaining.

“Fine,” he said, his own voice lowering in pitch, “If that’s how you want to play, let’s play.”

***

Angelina _loved_ the feel of Harry’s muscles. She wondered how the scrawny little boy had grown up into such a delicious hunk, but frankly, she did not care. She had been surprised when Fleur Delacour, in a drunk stupor at the Easter after-party at the Burrow, had confessed to banging Harry Potter in front of her husband. Luckily, only Angelina and Audrey had been around when the quarter-veela had confessed. Audrey appeared absolutely scandalized, but Angelina had been intrigued. Despite Audrey’s apparent disgust, Angelina had prodded the blonde and Fleur proclaimed – to Audrey’s discomfort and Angelina’s amusement – that Harry Potter was the “best lover in all of the universe.”

And so, she had been curious. She told George about it – just like she told George about all of her one-night stands (there _had_ been only two for her apart from George – her schedule was packed with training for the Harpies) – and George had been immensely intrigued. Of course, she had heard the jokes about Harry “Hippogriff” Potter from the Quidditch lockers, but had never thought he would ever be within reach. Now that he was, she just could not resist taking the proverbial “Hippogriff” out on a fly.

And much to her surprise, George had been immensely turned on at the notion as well. So he had provided her with a recording orb and made her promise to record the entire session so both of them could “enjoy” it later.

Angelina just hoped Harry Potter lived up to all the hype.

“Fine,” the black-haired man murmured, “If that’s how you want to play, let’s play.”

And she gasped. The air seemed to _tingle_ with unbridled passion as Harry’s hands, which had been hanging limply, sprang into motion. The temperature seemed to rise and Harry started kissing right back. He trailed wet kisses down her neck and she moaned – he was picking all of her sweet spots. She felt one of his hands squeeze her ass. With the other, he held her ponytail in a firm grip and snapped her head back so that she was staring into her mesmerizing green eyes.

 _So incredibly handsome_ , she thought.

“Wait,” she panted as he leaned in to kiss her, “George… he wanted me to record this…”

Harry looked at her curiously and murmured, “Ah, so the Weasley family trait rears its head again.”

“What?” she asked, confused.

“Never mind,” he said, his lips millimeters away from hers, “Where’s the orb?”

“On… the… table,” she said haltingly. _So difficult to concentrate,_ she thought, as Harry’s hands kneaded her ass so pleasantly and he kissed across her cheeks and on the edge of her lips.

“ _Activate_ ,” she gasped and an orb rose right into the air from its previous position on the dining table.

“Oh,” Harry said amused, “You _prepared_ for this little soiree.”

She nodded mutely.

Harry looked curiously at the orb as it hovered around them, glancing away from her in the process. Angelina started laying kisses around his cheek and ear, biting at his lobe playfully. “So,” Harry asked, “How do you control it?”

“Something about magically controlling it with your wand,” Angelina murmured between kisses, “Don’t care. Can never get the damn thing to work straight. Can’t be arsed to hold a wand now. Let it just hover in place and record.”

“Hang on,” Harry said.

Angelina drew her face away from his and looked curiously at him. Their bodies were still flush against each other and Angelina could not stop grinding up against him – there was something _about_ him that was _immensely_ masculine. Like an overpowering sense of _power_ that hung around him.

Harry extended an arm out towards the orb and Angelina watched the muscles bunch up all over his forearm in admiration. She _liked_ a man that kept fit.

And then, she gasped as she felt a burst of _power_ pulse ight out of his bare hand. The orb stopped moving and floated in mid-air.

“Oh,” Harry said idly, “That’s not too bad.”

Angelina gaped. Harry was controlling a magical object with his bare hands, without a wand.

“How… are you doing that?” she asked incredulously.

Harry turned to look at her and grinned. “Don’t worry about it,” he said huskily and Angelina felt herself getting aroused as a well of power seemed to surge up around him. The orb moved closer, hovering right above their heads, “I’ll control the orb. You worry about the _fucking_.”

And then he kissed her. Angelina felt her _toes_ curl with the strength of his kiss – his tongue brushed against her own tongue and inner cheeks, swiping and licking at all of the right spots, drawing moans from her mouth and she _melted_ in his embrace.

They drew apart and Angelina panted, “Merlin, it’s like your _feeding_ magic into me.”

Harry smirked. “Oh, I’ll be _feeding_ you a lot more than magic this afternoon, love.”

And then they kissed again. Angelina moaned and gasped into his mouth and his tongue seemed to map every inch of her throat. His hands were running all around her back and sides, feeling up her tight stomach, pushing up her breasts and then roaming over her clothed rear.

Eventually, they drew apart again and Angelina could not take it anymore. She dropped down his body, scraping her fingers down his chest and abs. Harry removed his shirt just as Angelina started unbuttoning his pants. She _pulled_ them down with a swift jerk and moved her head to the side as something _monstrous_ sprang up at her.

“Morgana’s _tits_ , Harry,” Angelina said, tilting her face to face his rock-hard erection. It practically filled her vision, and she was just looking at the _base_. She tried to turn her head around to find the end of the enormous shaft, but it just went _on_ and _on_. “What the _fuck_? How the _hell_ do you manage to hide this?”

Harry chuckled.

Angelina waddled back on her knees, keeping her hands on Harry’s muscled thighs for support – they felt like tree trunks under her palms. And then she came face to face with the largest cockhead she had ever seen. It was like someone had tried to make a _perfect_ human penis and had succeeded in making one. With perfectly straight lines and a ramrod-straight shaft ending in a perfect mushroom head with an eager slit at the end, but then the conjurer of the penis had realized it had to be fitted onto a giant and had then cast multiple _engorgio_ spells on it.

It looked _ridiculously_ huge. And it _would_ have looked ludicrous on the Harry Potter that Angelina remembered from before she left Hogwarts – but on the beast of a man standing before her, it looked perfectly appropriate. Only, Angelina could not tell if she herself was intimidated or aroused. _Or both_ , she thought. She cupped his balls – like ostrich eggs in her hands – and _pushed_ up, watching his cock sway in front of her eyes.

“Harry,” she panted, “I’m not… I don’t know if…”

“You won’t know,” he said smoothly, “Unless you try.”

Angelina tentatively reached a tongue out and licked at it. She _moaned_ at the taste. “Men are not supposed to taste this good,” she murmured. She heard Harry chuckle, but she was being perfectly serious – he tasted… she couldn’t _quite_ place the taste. But if she had to use a word – she would use the word - “powerful.” He tasted like pure _power_ , like his entire body _tingled_ with magic.

And Angelina shamelessly started licking away at his massive head, slathering it with her tongue. She slobbered all over the head, then lapped across it, even poking the end of her tongue briefly into his slit. Harry moaned at that and Angelina smiled naughtily.

***

Harry moaned and pulled Angelina closer, even as he moved the orb down so that it was filming them from the side at his waist level. Her eyes crossed as she drew closer to his cock until her amazingly pillowy lips were touching the tip of his cock. And then he let go – he wanted _her_ to make the next move.

Angelina kissed around his hole, still licking tentatively around his head. And her lips slowly widened as she slowly pushed his dome into her mouth. Eventually, when her entire mouth was filled with his crown, she grew bolder and slid him further down her hot, panting mouth until his cock was touching the back of her throat. It felt _amazing_ to him – especially her lips, which had now reached down a quarter of his penis. Angelina had the largest lips of any of the girls that he had been with – and Harry had always heard his Quidditch teammates make jokes about how those lips would feel wrapped around their cocks, but here he was, actually _feeling_ them on his shaft.

And then Angelina _pulled_ back, dragging those delicious lips _up_ his cock until she pulled off with a _pop_. “How the _hell_ do you fly so fast with this thing weighing you down?” Angelina asked incredulously.

“Size can be _deceptive_ , Angie,” Harry joked.

“Tell me about it,” Angelina said and stuffed his cock in her mouth again. She made an “mmmmf” sound as she tried to _push_ her tongue out from underneath his shaft and her lower lip. Harry groaned. She was _gurgling_ over his cock now. After a few seconds of holding herself down, she pulled off again.

“I can’t stop tasting your _cock_ ,” the dark-skinned girl said, “It tastes _amazing_!”

And then she went down again. Only this time, she didn’t pull off as she started moving up and down, _drooling_ over the part of his cock that she _could_ deep-throat. Her hands moved off his thighs and encircled the lower half of his shaft, rubbing back and forth in rhythm with her head. As she moved down, choking on his cock, her hands moved _up_ away from his midriff, and when she moved _up_ , towards his cockhead, her hands moved _down_ , smacking against his balls.

Her ponytail swung back and forth as Angelina gave him a spectacular blowjob. Harry’s hands were now in her hair, rubbing across her scalp as she tried her level best to deep-throat him.

“So,” Harry asked, “When you said you wouldn’t eat me up… did you know you’d be on your knees, trying to _swallow_ my cock in your living room?”

“MMMF… MMFFF… MMMFFFFF!” was Angelina’s reply. Or Harry _thought_ it was her reply – he didn’t know whether she had even _heard_ him. All he saw in her eyes was confused bliss and her hands were zipping back and forth across his shaft as her mouth moved across the upper half at a slower pace.

Eventually, after several minutes of tasting and salivating over his rod, she pulled off with a loud _slurp_. His penis _dripped_ with her spit. Angelina panted, “I… hope… that’s enough lubrication.”

Then she lifted his cock up and _leaned_ in to lick his balls. She lapped all over them and then wrapped her mouth in turn upon each, _sucking_ at them so that each ball _pulled_ pleasantly. Harry groaned at the pleasure.

“No wonder you’re a Chaser,” Harry said, “You’re great at working those balls.”

Angelina pulled off, leaving his balls lathered in her spit. “Really, Harry?” she asked, “That’s the line you’re going with?”

Harry shrugged and laughed. And Angelina went right back to covering his testicles with her spit, lapping at it with the flat of her tongue.

After a bit, she leaned back again and started stuffing his cock back into her mouth.

But before she could go back to choking on his meat again, Harry placed his left hand on her head and held her in place so that only his bell-shaped head was in her mouth. He then pushed her hands away off his shaft and held the base of his cock in his own right hand. He then _pulled_ his cock sideways so that his head burst _out_ of her lips off the side of her mouth with a resounding _pop_. He moaned – he _loved_ the feeling of his head pushing against her right cheek as it _sliced_ out of her oral cavity. Angelina just panted and stared at him.

Harry laughed, slapped the side of her face with his cock drawing out a squeal, and as she opened her mouth to complain, he shoved his crown in again. “MMMFFF!” Angelina said again around his cock, sending heavenly vibrations all over his shaft. Harry _sliced_ his cock out again with a _pop_.

“Harry!” Angelina whined, only for Harry to shove in his cock again and repeat the maneuver. Over and over, he _sliced_ out of her mouth with amazing _pops_ and she _panted_ and _munched_ on his cock.

“Dammit, Harry!” Angelina panted as he did it for the eighth time, “You’re… _tearing_ … my… mouth!”

Harry laughed and let go of her head. Angelina smiled eagerly and resumed her blowjob, jerking the base of his shaft as she tried to deep-throat him.

And that was when Harry started moving backwards, to the dining table. Angelina, reluctant to let go of his cock, crept forward on her knees, still keeping the fat crown in her mouth and _slobbering_ over it as if he were _leading_ her with his cock buried in her mouth. Just as Harry drew alongside the dining table, he grasped Angelina’s ponytail in his hand and _jerked_ it back, making Angelina draw off his cock and look up at him with a gaping mouth and lust-crazed eyes. He bent down, lifted her and pushed her onto the table effortlessly so that she was laying down on her back facing him. Then, he grabbed her hips and spun her in place so that her legs were facing away from him while her head was right in front of him, only upside down. He grinned at her, grabbed under her arms and pulled her towards him so that her head was off the table while the rest of her body was lain on it.

“Just flinging me around as you please, Potter?” Angelina said, apparently overwhelmed by her helplessness. Harry _pulled_ the recording orb closer so that it hovered over the dining table.

He then lifted his cock and slapped it right on top of Angelina’s face. His balls were now right on her forehead and his shaft lay across her entire face, with his cockhead extending well past her chin.

“Harry!” Angelina squealed, “I can’t see!”

“Do you need to?” Harry asked as he rolled his meat all over her face, covering her face with her own spit that was lathered on his cock. She moaned and extended her tongue out, trying to lick as much of his shaft as she could reach as he rolled his meat all over the place. Then Harry pushed her face down so that it was upside down and hanging off the table with Angelina’s neck bending backwards. Using her mouth as a fuckhole, Harry just stuffed his cock down her trap and Angelina started choking. She grabbed the shaft with both hands and started jacking him off again. Harry took his own hands off and just held her head in place as the dusky woman did all the work.

Even upside down, with her head hanging off a dining table, Angelina was still giving Harry one of the best blowjobs he had ever experienced. She gagged on his shaft as she tried to shove him down her throat – it was a gallant effort by Harry’s standards, but ultimately vain; nonetheless, he did enjoy the feeling of his cock pushing into her tight throat as she choked around it by herself.

“Angelina,” Harry moaned, “You’re a class apart.”

Angelina pulled him out with a mighty effort and said, “Just chasing after this amazing taste, Harry.” And then she stuffed his cock back in with a _shlurp._

Harry laughed. “A Chaser joke, Angie?” he taunted, “Tch, tch.”

Eventually, Harry pulled right out as Angelina’s spittle flew all over the place, leaving the black girl panting for more. “Time for the main event, Johnson,” he said as he rotated her hips around again, so that she was now facing him the right way around with her legs on either side of his hips. “Time to return the favor,” Harry said as he pulled off her pants and went down on his knees before her dazed eyes.

***

“ _Fuck_ , Potter,” Angelina moaned, “Your tongue feels _divine_!”

He seemed to be licking all around her cunt and he did this _amazing_ thing where his tongue _vibrated_ whenever it touched her clitoris. It felt _exquisite_ to Angelina – her three past lovers had often told her she had a _tiny_ clitoris and that it was hard to lavish attention upon, but Harry was _blowing_ her past experiences away with his _tongue_. Dimly, she registered that her recording orb was now right in front of her face. _He’s actually multi-tasking_ , she thought incredulously.

“That’s it!” Angelina moaned as his vibrating tongue made another pass across her bud, making her pussy _gush_ with pleasure, “You’re _great_ at spotting the Snitch, aren’t you?”

Harry slurped at her lower lips and got up with a confused smile. “Uh… are you equating your clit with a… snitch?” he asked.

Angelina hooked her feet around his head and _pushed_ him back into her twat. “Shut up and _seek_!” she moaned, “Listen to your captain.”

Harry went straight back to those _delightful_ languid licks along her lips with a chuckle.

“That’s it,” Angelina moaned, “Listen to your… uh… LICK your captain!”

And then Harry _plunged_ his tongue right into her pussy and started vibrating his tongue _inside_. Angelina squirmed and twisted, shuddered and moaned as his tongue _impossibly_ vibrated _and_ licked at the same time, finding all of the right spots.

“CUMMING!” Angelina screamed as her pussy _gushed_ and _pumped_ around his tongue. Her eyes _rolled_ into the back of her head as her back arched in pleasure. In her haze, she noticed Harry stand up with a raging erection.

***

Angelina was now looking straight at his cock as it hovered right over her abdomen and there was a fair bit of trepidation on her drenched and dazed face.

Harry _pulled_ her closer and swung her right leg over his shoulder; he pushed her other leg onto the table by her thigh. Her right foot now lay right beside his ear and her left leg rested right along the edge of the table so that her wet cunt was gaping at him.

Angelina’s vaginal lips reminded Harry of Fleur – they were invitingly plump and were entirely hairless. The difference was: where Fleur’s vagina was pink superimposed on milky white skin, Angelina’s was crimson, imposed on delicious chocolate skin. Another difference was that where Fleur’s clit was abnormally large, Angelina’s was _particularly_ tiny. However, both quims seemed to have no problems churning out fluids as they quivered in the throes of pleasure.

Harry angled his cock and _pushed_ at her lips, parting them with the tip of his spit-soaked cockhead. Angelina’s pussy was still writhing and squirming at intervals, trying to come down from her orgasm. “ _Harry_ ”, she moaned and Harry pressed his advantage, pushing his cockhead right into her tight cunt with a shove.

She screamed, “HNNNNNNNNNNNNGGG… BIG!”

Her pussy renewed its shuddering as it _coiled_ and _uncoiled_ around Harry’s head, apparently _milking_ it in amazing fashion as he pushed even further in. Inch by inch, her cunt walls slowly parted as his cock sank further and further into her wet tunnel – her pussy was _gushing_ juices now and Angelina twitched ever so often as Harry slipped further and further in.

And when three quarters of his cock was buried in her wet orifice, Harry _slammed_ in with all his strength, spearing the last quarter in and bashing right into her cervix. Angelina screamed again through gritted teeth. “HNNNNNGGGGGGG!”

Harry held her left leg in place against the table as he _pulled_ out until only his head remained buried in her vagina and _slammed_ straight back in. And then started repeating the motion until a stream of screams was pouring out of Angelina. Her pussy walls were gripping and contracting right around his penis as he slammed in and out – she seemed to be having a never-ending series of orgasms. They seemed to taper out as he kept to a specific rhythm, and then start up again to build to a peak as he changed his rhythm.

“YES!” Angelina screamed as her orgasm seemed to build to another high and he _pounded_ her up and down over the table.

“Better than riding a broom, Angie?” Harry taunted.

“I… GNNNNAAAAH… WISH… BROOMS… HNNNNGGG… FELT THIS GOOD!” Angelina screamed, the last three words rushing out of her mouth as she shuddered on the table, “FEEL… LIKE… I’M… FLYING!”

Harry frowned, pondering Angelina’s words even as he kept thrusting into her like a maniac. Then, after a moment’s thought, a brilliant idea popped into his head – Angelina’s words had reminded him of his own experience with Gabrielle’s avian form.

Harry removed his left hand from around Angelina’s right leg that was slung over his shoulder, _pushed_ at the orb so that its recording half – indicated by a red, blinking dot – was pointed _away_ from him at Angelina’s slutty face - and summoned his wand out of thin air. He waved and _pushed_ downwards with his magic, creating a cushion of air underneath Angelina.

Angelina’s eyes, which were screwed shut in pleasure up to this point, snapped open as she felt her back leave the table. Harry quickly willed his wand to disappear and _pulled_ out of her pussy, drawing a moan from her. Her gaping cunt was still quivering and drooling fluids at a phenomenal rate.

“What… happening?” Angelina asked, utterly confused and trying to formulate a question to voice her doubts through her continuing orgasm.

Harry grabbed Angelina’s legs and rolled her onto her left side so that her left leg lay flat on the cushion of air he had just conjured and her right leg was poised high in the air, perpendicular to her left.

“I just conjured a _bed_ made out of air, Angelina,” Harry said smugly, “Well… more like a bed that _feels_ like it’s made of air, but is actually just a high pressure stream of air pushing _up_ your body and keeping it aloft.”

Angelina just looked completely dazed.

“Er… never mind,” Harry said as he jumped onto the bed of air right behind Angelina so that Harry was on his left side as well, his cock brushing up against Angelina’s cunt, drawing a gasp from her. Harry grabbed his cock with his right hand and angled it up so that it pushed up against Angelina’s pussy once more. Then he pushed in again, parting her tight, wet walls again.

“YES!” Angelina screamed again, eerily echoing the words he had once said to Gabrielle, “FLYING AND FUCKING!”

“Dream come true, huh?” Harry asked lustfully, now holding onto her right thigh with his hand, pushing it up higher against her side as he as he extended his left arm under and around Angelina’s body to palm her tits. Both Harry and Angelina now lay on their left sides, floating in mid-air, with Harry spearing his cock in and out of her twat at a furious pace. He was actually moving his body back and forth across the cushion of air as he lay prone on his side and he _loved_ the fact that there was absolutely no friction as there would be on the ground. Harry imagined doing the same thing on Angelina’s carpeted floor would probably be disastrous for his skin.

 _It does feel like I’m flying and fucking_ , Harry thought happily, congratulating himself for this brilliant idea.

“You’re quite flexible, you know,” Harry said in admiration as he continued to drill into the dark-skinned woman; her right leg was now nearly at an angle of 270 degrees to her left, pressing up right against her side as Harry held it in place. He _pulled_ at her nipples with his left hand as her tits bounced in rhythm with his thrusts. His balls were _slapping_ against her gushing twat now with loud, wet _smacks_ , echoing throughout the room. He willed the recording orb to hover in the vicinity of Angelina’s pussy, where his balls were smacking up onto her clit as his cuntjuice-coated shaft slammed in and out of her gushing twat.

After nearly thirty minutes of spearing Angelina in the sideways spooning position (although Harry was doing a _lot_ more than casual spooning – he supposed he’d have to invent a new name for this rapid-fire thrusting in the spooning position), Harry felt his conjured cushion of air growing weaker. Quickly, he pushed up, drilling _deep_ into Angelina as he pulled her into his lap. She squealed as she sat on top of his balls with his meat shoved deep into her cunt.

“What…” she asked stupefied, “Why… have… we… stopped?”

“Don’t like stopping, eh?” Harry asked.

“Don’t wanna… stop… cumming,” Angelina panted.

Harry chuckled and pushed off the cushion, landing softly on the floor with Angelina bent over in front of him with her ass against his abs and his penis deep in her vagina. “Harry!” Angelina squealed as she flailed her arms, looking for support as she fell forwards. Harry gripped her hips tighter and held her impaled on his cock.

“Don’t worry, Captain,” he taunted, “Won’t let you fall.”

“ _Harry_!” Angelina whined, “Legs… weak… can’t… stand.”

Harry just grinned naughtily and _thrust_ forward, making her scream as she stumbled forward, her cunt leaking juices all over his cock.

“Remember what you told me once during training, Angie?” Harry asked, and then said in a sing-song voice, “Even when on your last legs, keep pushing forward – it’s never over till it’s over.”

And then he gave another thrust, pushing her forward another step. Her legs trembled and she screamed, “FUCK… YOU… POTTER!”

“Well,” Harry said, “You kinda are. Fucking me, I mean.”

“AAAAAHHH!” Angelina screamed and flailed again as he gave yet another massive thrust, pushing her one more step. It felt _lovely_ bashing up against her cervix with each mighty shove into her dribbling cunt. Harry was positive that his cock was now probably so lathered with her juices that if he took out his cock and shook it around, he could make it _rain_ pussy juices.

Harry was not thrusting her forwards for no reason at all though – with one more thrust and another associated scream from Angelina, they had finally reached the tall armrest of her couch. Angelina’s hands finally grabbed the armrest and pushed up against it, holding on for dear life.

Harry grinned. He _pulled_ his cock right out of her pussy, drawing a moan from Angelina at the sensation of loss. And then he _speared_ it back in with a titanic thrust. He didn’t think Angelina could scream any louder, but she proved him wrong. Her gritted teeth finally opened up and she _screeched_ her lungs out at the force of his entire cock pulverizing her insides at once.

And Harry repeated the motion mercilessly. Just as he popped his head right out of her slick cunt, she moaned, “ _Fuck_ …”

Harry complied and sheathed his cock in one fell swoop, pummeling her insides in one go.

And just as he popped out again, dribbling her juices all over the floor, she moaned, “… _your_ …”

 _Thrust_. _Pull_. “… naughty…”

 _Thrust. Pull._ “… CAPTAIN!”

Harry grinned, grabbed her ponytail and _pulled_ on it as he thrust in again, snapping her head back. And then he started _fucking_ her, never leaving her cunt this time.

“FUCK!” Angelina screamed over and over as Harry pounded into her like a piston, jiggling her ass and tits at a furious pace. Her vagina was _squelching_ and _pumping_ juices as she stared straight ahead in bliss, his balls were slapping all over her inner thighs as he used her like a blow-up doll, reshaping her insides so they were now moulded to suit _only_ him. She barely managed to hold on to the armrest as Harry used her ponytail as some sort of a leash, snapping her head back and forth as he fucked her more roughly than she’d _ever_ been fucked in her life.

“So, am I throwing the quaffle the right way now, Captain?” Harry taunted.

“QUAFFLE… FUCKING… BIG. HOOP SMALL!” Angelina screamed. Harry burst out laughing at that, speeding up his thrusts into her.

The orb now hovered around her face as Angelina panted and moaned right into it, her breath condensing to mist as it touched the translucent surface of the recorder. Her never-ending orgasm had reached its _ultimate_ peak and her pussy was practically _fluttering_ around Harry’s fat cock, gibbering out juices almost continuously.

Her vision swam and the world burst into color around her – the pleasure was absolutely _overwhelming_. She reached out a hand behind her and _slapped_ Harry’s arse blindly.

“CUM!” she screamed, “CUM… YOU… BEAST!”

Harry did not oblige her – he just kept thrusting away like a demon. She just _knew_ she had been utterly _ruined_ – poor George wouldn’t even be able to _feel_ her inner walls at this rate with his tiny pecker. They had been permanently disfigured to the shape of Harry’s perfect horsecock.

“BEAST!” she screamed again as her insides felt like they were reduced to jelly. She was _melting_ cum all over his big, fat rod now.

Angelina decided, at that moment, that she’d never miss a chance to _fuck_ herself silly on Harry’s enormous pole again… _ever_. If she’d known he was this gifted, she’d have fucked him from the moment he stepped into the Quidditch lockers at Hogwarts. Her cunt would have been impaled on that cock all day long – at breakfast in the Great Hall, in the lockers, even up in the air… she’d have done a celebratory loop _riding_ Harry’s fat cock each time they scored a goal, had she only known about this…

“FUCK”, she screamed again – her hands trembled and she lost her grip on the armrest, falling forward with her ass in the air. Her face smushed into the sofa and the armrest was right against her tummy as she _leaned_ against it with her torso on the couch. She was practically _on_ the armrest now.

And Harry was relentless. He _pulled_ her hips up, pulling her legs off the ground in the process and his cock never left her gushing twat. He just kept spearing in and out at a _furious_ pace as he fucked her _onto_ the armrest of her own couch.

She was _drooling_ now, trails of spit falling down her gaping mouth onto the couch, forming a puddle beneath her right cheek. Her pussy was being fucked into pieces as the sofa started shuddering back and forth with the force of Harry’s bestial thrusts.

“ _Harry_ ,” Angelina pleaded. Her throat was raw and her lungs felt like they were _burning_. “ _Please_ …”

Dimly she registered exactly _why_ Ginny was apparently willing to lend her boyfriend around – he was _insatiable_. There was _no way_ Ginny was keeping up with him. _Hell_ , she thought _, my entire Harpies team couldn’t keep up with this monster_.

“Please what?” Harry asked.

“ _Cum_ ,” Angelina rasped.

Harry started slowing down. His thrusts simmered down until he was merely grinding in and out of her quivering cunt and then, with a _pull_ , he was out of her vagina. She _sprayed_ juices out onto the floor, unloading all of her cum that had been plugged in by his cock.

He then lifted Angelina bodily, flipped her, and laid her onto her couch on her back, so that she was facing him, his enormous cockhead over right above her lips. She could barely _move_ , but she opened her lips in a daze.

Harry was now off to her side as she lay down, so he raised one leg and placed it on the couch, such that he was towering above her face. He then angled his cock down and stuffed his head between her parted lips so that it _burst_ into her mouth.

And the taste she _loved_ returned. Angelina wearily lifted her arms up and curled her fists around his shaft. She tugged and _pulled_ at the enormous rod, willing him to cum… _wanting_ him to cum. Her cunt was still dribbling juices onto her couch, but thankfully, her orgasm was showing signs of tapering off.

Harry thrust in and out ever so slightly, so that his head moved back and forth in her mouth as she jacked him off to the best of her ability. She licked all over every part of his dome she _could_ reach. _Fuck Ginny,_ she thought, _I’m going to choke myself silly on this tasty meat every time I see it now. Even if it has to be in front of the little redhead._

And then Harry grunted and his penis recoiled as it _spurted_ what seemed to be an entire _mouthful_ of semen into her mouth. Angelina gagged, despite what she thought was a _delicious_ tangy taste - causing it to spill out of her mouth and all over her face. She tried to swallow desperately as Harry shot a _second_ burst and then a _third_ …

And it seemed to go on and on. Angelina actually had to raise her head from its prone position on the couch to try and swallow it, but it still dribbled down her neck and onto her breasts. She _pulled_ his penis out of her mouth and it continued to shoot semen all over her face, eyes, hair, neck and _even_ onto the couch.

“You’re… fucking painting the place,” she rasped out incredulously.

Thankfully, after what seemed like an entire minute or so, Harry stopped spurting out his cum. Angelina, who was still holding onto his penis, pushed it down to her mouth again and licked the remaining cum off his glistening shaft.

Then, she collapsed back into the puddle of her own spit and Harry’s cum and went straight to sleep with a smile on her face.

 _He does live up to all the hype_ , she thought as her mind faded, _best night of my life._

***

Harry smiled at Angelina. That had been _incredible_. He cast a few _Scourgify_ spells to clean up the place, then made absolutely sure that the orb hadn’t recorded his conjuring of the air-bed and had faced in the other direction as he pulled out the Elder Wand. He didn’t care if the Weasleys saw how powerful he was – he just cared that they did not spot _how_ he was exercising that power.

Then, he conjured a blanket over the sleeping Angelina, dressed up and apparated straight out of her flat.

***


	9. Tamer

_Hogwarts, September 1_

Harry plopped down on a Gryffindor table that was slightly new to him. The usual people that surrounded him – the chatty duo of Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, the shy presence of Kellah Mudiaga, the stately Fay Dunbar, the verbose Usanga Bem, the ebullient Seamus Finnigan, easygoing Dean Thomas and the quiet but strong Neville Longbottom – were not around anymore, having passed their NEWTs earlier in the year. The NEWTs had been made available sometime in August for those students that were unable to give it during the war. In retrospect, Harry _should_ have given the NEWTs, but Hermione and Ron were adamant upon returning to Hogwarts for a carefree year, one last time. And truth be told, Harry was not entirely opposed to that idea.

Yet, the lack of his erstwhile year-mates was disconcerting. Now, while he still had Ron and Hermione with him, they were sitting two seats to his right. Also, Ron and Hermione were Head Boy and Head Girl for the last year at Hogwarts – and deservingly so, in Harry’s opinion.

Hermione had been entirely weird with him ever since the Easter feast – she had seldom visited the Burrow, and when she had, she would either avoid him like the plague, or push him up against the nearest wall and snog the life out of him before running away like a maniac. She alternated between guilt, passion and aloofness so fast that it boggled his mind. Ron appeared to be as unconcerned as ever, to the point where Harry had to wonder _why_ he was in a relationship with Hermione at all. Ron did tell Harry that he would _love_ to see the whole thing with Hermione being repeated, but Hermione kept stalling him whenever Ron brought it up. Harry was a bit relieved by that though – he wasn’t quite sure he _wanted_ Hermione to sleep with him because _Ron_ had told her to. He _wanted_ the adorable, bushy-haired girl. He _loved_ her – his feelings for her were no lesser than Ginny’s. Yet, he was content to wait from afar as Hermione made up her mind.

At this moment though, just after the Sorting, Hermione appeared utterly bored and Ron appeared to be chatting with one of Ginny’s year-mates… or one of _Harry’s_ year-mates now. Every so often though, Hermione would look up at Harry and _glare_ at the women around him.

And Harry _was_ surrounded by women – it was slightly unnerving to be hemmed in exclusively by women at Hogwarts. On his left sat Ginny Weasley. To his right, Demelza Robbins had blocked off an eager looking Romilda Vane, and Harry was _very_ grateful to his Quidditch teammate for that. Right opposite him, much to Ginny’s utter disdain, sat an _extremely_ beautiful Gabrielle Delacour – the new exchange student from Beauxbatons. On either side of Gabrielle were Nandini Johar and Natalie Fairbourne – two girls from Ginny’s year, now in his.

And they all alternated between flirting with him and heckling Ginny. While Ginny seemed to take most of the ribbing in stride, that did not stop her from having intense impromptu staring contests with Gabrielle. The half-veela herself appeared to be slightly put off at the sheer amount of male attention she seemed to be receiving as she sat with her hair undone at the Gryffindor table – it was _way_ worse than when Fleur had sat at the Ravenclaw table.

That did not stop Gabrielle from joining in on all the fun though – she had quickly made friends with all of the girls around Harry except for Ginny, much to the redhead’s chagrin.

And Gabrielle’s dainty feet were now right against Harry’s crotch. Harry was _trying_ to listen to McGonagall go on about her pet project – the inter-school tournament – and describe _how_ the students that wished to participate would be selected, but Gabrielle’s feet were so _dexterous_. She had hooked her feet _right_ underneath Harry’s robes below the table and crept up until his robes were bunched up around his thighs, giving the half-veela full access to Harry’s crotch. She had then proceeded to unzip his pants and draw them down – all with her _feet_ to Harry’s incredulity (and admiration) – until they were around his ankles. And she was now coaxing his cock right out through the slit in his boxers. His cock was now completely erect and was pushing his robes up, tenting them. Gabrielle’s feet alternated between tugging at his cock with the arches of her feet and massaging his balls with her toes.

Harry looked around desperately to make sure no one was looking and then gulped when he saw that Demelza, seated right next to him, was looking straight down at his tent with wide eyes. She looked from his tent to his eyes several times, as if she could not believe what she was seeing, then actually put her head _under_ the table to look at what was happening. Luckily, Ginny was facing McGonagall and listening intently to her, so at least there was that. Demelza gave a soft gasp and rose up to stare incredulously at Gabrielle across the table – she had obviously seen Gabrielle’s feet going right up Harry’s robes. Gabrielle merely winked at Demelza.

 _Crap_ , Harry thought, _Demelza is going to tell Ginny. And then I’m done for._

But she did not. Instead, Demelza reached out tentatively, her eyes still wide. She extended a hand carefully under the table and just started feeling up his crotch through his robes. Harry gasped. And then Demelza started rubbing it softly.

“I… didn’t know you were available,” she whispered into his ear.

Harry just grinned at her as she started massaging his penis. “I’m not,” he whispered back, “I’m with Ginny.”

Demelza looked troubled. “Then… why…?”

“Uh…” Harry trailed off.

“Okay, I feel _slightly_ guilty now for honing in on Ginny’s turf,” Demelza said casually, still stroking his shaft.

“You’re still rubbing it,” Harry told her.

“Whoops,” Demelza said, but made no move to take off her hand. She bit her lips and looked down at the table. “I’ve… just… never touched one before. This is _huge_!”

“Uh, Demelza, I’d really appreciate it if you took your hand off right now,” Harry said.

Demelza pouted, but removed her hand nonetheless, eliciting both relief and regret in Harry. “But why is _she_ touching it then?” Demelza half-whined, half-whispered.

“She isn’t now,” a cold voice said from Harry’s left. Then there was a massive _smack_ sound under the table. Harry turned around with a start only to see Ginny giving Gabrielle a vicious glare. Gabrielle’s feet left Harry’s crotch – Ginny had obviously kicked Gabrielle’s feet with her own. Gabrielle just gave Ginny an impish smile.

“Bitch,” Ginny murmured. Then she looked at Harry; he noticed that Hogwarts had resumed its normal level of chatter and McGonagall had obviously finished her speech.

“Uh,” Harry murmured.

Ginny kissed him and he kissed right back. Ginny drew off him and gave Gabrielle a haughty smile – the half-veela shrugged and winked at Ginny; the redhead blushed.

Harry groaned. It would be a _very_ long year indeed.

***

Hermione was _utterly_ bored. Ron was immersed in an immensely boring conversation about Quidditch with Jack Sloper and her boyfriend wasn’t even _holding_ her hand. Or even _looking_ at her. The only reason Ron seemed to even give her the time of the day these days was to ask her when she and Harry would be doing _that_ again.

It was utterly ridiculous. And Hermione did not think she could _ever_ do it with Harry again in front of Ron. She _wanted_ Harry Potter – her feelings towards Harry Potter were now at fever pitch. She was _attracted_ to him. She thought she _loved_ him.

And the main obstacle in her way was not Ron. She was sure, by now, that Ron had never really seen her as a long-term partner. And worse, in between his conversation with Sloper, Ron was even managing to sneak in flirtatious lines with Julie Parkes – Julie used to be a year below Hermione and was a pleasant enough girl.

Hermione supposed she _should_ have been jealous, but it disturbed her when she felt _nothing_.

She was not jealous of Ron flirting with Julie. She _was_ feeling intense jealousy though – however, her envy was directed entirely at Ginny Weasley, sitting diagonally opposite her. She was with the man Hermione desired and it was driving the bushy-haired Gryffindor up a figurative wall. More disturbing was the fact the _Gabrielle_ seemed to be here at Hogwarts – somehow, Hermione had managed to miss Fleur’s announcement that Gabrielle would be attending Hogwarts for her final year as an exchange student – apparently, Gabrielle was keen on getting a job in England after graduation, and Hermione had the sinking feeling that she knew _why_.

Gabrielle was the very epitome of a Harry Potter fangirl – apart from Romilda Vane, of course, who had looked crestfallen when Demelza had taken the seat she had made a beeline for. And Gabrielle was _worse_ than Romilda – where Romilda was blunt and tactless, Gabrielle was sophisticated and charming. Where Romilda was merely pretty, Gabrielle was _exquisite_ , as only a veela could be.

It was _unfair_. Now, Hermione had to compete with not just Ginny, but Gabrielle as well – the half-veela had not taken her eyes _off_ the Boy-Who-Lived for a minute since the feast had started.

Only two things gave Hermione solace. One – Ginny seemed to be as disturbed by Gabrielle’s fascination with Harry as Hermione was. Two – Hermione was _far_ closer to Harry than Ginny, let alone Gabrielle. She knew the handsome, dark-haired man inside out – they had made _love_.

And in any case, Hermione was never one to back away from a competition. Not when the reward was utterly worth it.

***

“So, Harry,” Nandini asked with a giggle, “Planning to take part in the tournament?”

“Yeah,” Demelza said, “I’m definitely in for the Quidditch try-outs.”

Harry just looked a bit puzzled.

Ginny, who had been glaring at Gabrielle, snarled, “If you had been _listening_ , Harry, McGonagall just announced that the try-outs for the all-Hogwarts team shall take place next week.”

Both Nandini and Natalie looked a bit taken aback by Ginny lashing out at Harry so soon after giving him a fierce kiss. Demelza coughed into her hand loudly and Gabrielle giggled. Ginny went right back to glaring at the half-veela.

Gabrielle straightened up. “According to Madame Maxime,” she said, “I caused a bit of confusion – I can’t possibly go back and forth between schools to compete in the tournament heats. It was decided that I shall take part in the heats here, but if selected, I shall represent Beauxbatons in the main tournament.”

“So you’ll basically be considered a Hogwarts student for the preliminary rounds?” Natalie asked curiously.

“Not quite,” Gabrielle said, “It’s like this – if I rack up as many wins as, or _more_ wins than _any_ of the four best duelers at Beauxbatons in _their_ heats, I shall be offered a spot in the Beauxbatons dueling team.”

“But wouldn’t that be a bit unfair?” Nandini asked, “I mean… Beauxbatons might have _more_ duels in their heats. Wouldn’t it be unfair if you secured a spot _here_ to compete for a spot _there_?”

Gabrielle giggled. “Doesn’t matter,” the half-veela said airily with a flourish of her hair, “Madame Maxime knows I’m _that_ good.”

Ginny scoffed.

And then everyone turned to stare at a very confused Harry.

Demelza made her voice slightly high-pitched to emulate Ginny’s tone from earlier. “If you had been _listening_ , Harry,” she said as Ginny gave her a flat stare and Gabrielle giggled again, “You’d have known that the heats shall begin next week for the Dueling portion of the tournament.”

“She called it the Contest of Wands,” Natalie added, looking faintly amused by the fact that Harry hadn’t even paid attention to McGonagall’s instructions.

Nandini looked a bit put out. “Well, I’m no good at Quidditch,” the curly-haired brunette said thoughtfully, “And I’m not really into dueling. I guess I’ll try out for the Quiz.”

Ginny nodded approvingly. “Nandini, you _did_ get all Outstandings on your OWLs” she said. Nandini blushed and glanced at Harry. Ginny scowled.

“Uh,” Harry said awkwardly, “I… uh…”

“Mister Potter,” a new voice said from behind him and Harry turned with a start. He looked right into the almond brown eyes of the new Head of Gryffindor House – Mary MacDonald. She had been announced as the Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts (Harry hoped for her sake that the curse on the position was long gone – she was easy on the eyes too) at Hogwarts and had attended Hogwarts when his own mother had been at school.

Apparently, Professor MacDonald had made quite a name for herself ever since the persecution of Muggle-borns under the reign of Voldemort began – she had spearheaded the Hogsmeade resistance, for which Harry was very grateful and had been the driving force behind the reinforcements during the Battle at Hogwarts. She had also been quite an accomplished auror before the rise of Voldemort, though she had retired sometime in 1993 to take care of her only child, who was apparently a fifth-year Hufflepuff now. Either way, Harry was impressed by her credentials and McGonagall had made it quite clear that it was not often an ex-Auror deigned to teach at Hogwarts.

Professor MacDonald was holding a list in her hand. “Mister Potter,” she repeated and then looked around at the other students, “Miss Weasley, Miss Fairbourne, Miss Johar, Miss Delacour, do you know what events you shall take part in?”

“Dueling,” Gabrielle said decisively.

“Quidditch,” Demelza said.

“Quiz”, Nandini said shyly, still looking at Harry.

“I’m… going to pass,” Natalie said, and shrugged when Nandini gave her an accusing stare. Obviously, the dusky girl had expected Natalie to take part in the Quiz selection as well.

Then there was a pregnant pause where Professor MacDonald looked expectantly at both Harry and Ginny.

Ginny was chewing on her bottom lip, obviously thinking really hard about what she wanted to do. Harry had no idea why – Ginny obviously loved Quidditch.

Ginny glanced at Gabrielle, then at Harry and then at the Professor. After a beat, she asked, “Er… could I take part in two events?”

“You can take part in two _selections_ ,” the Professor said, “You may or may not qualify for the final school team we shall be fielding from November onwards in the main event. We’re only taking names now for the selection rounds where you shall be parsed.”

Ginny nodded. “Dueling and Quidditch,” she said, and then glared at Gabrielle.

Gabrielle merely smirked.

And then everyone stared at Harry expectantly.

He _knew_ everyone expected him to take up Quidditch – he had just fought a war and defeated a Dark Lord, after all. And while Harry still _liked_ the sport, he had no desire to engage in it for the rest of his life. There was another profession that interested him now. And the blood pounding in his ears, the silent whispers of the Elder Wand in his head… they all persuaded him that there was really only _one_ option here.

“Dueling”, he said.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw _both_ his girlfriend and Gabrielle gape at him. And then, Gabrielle gulped. The Professor stared at him for a moment, then asked slowly, “So… no Quidditch then?”

“I’m sure there are plenty of excellent Quidditch players at Hogwarts, Professor,” Harry said, “I’m merely taking part in the event that interests me more. It _is_ my NEWT year, after all. So I’d like to concentrate on that one event.”

The Professor jotted down his name and moved up the table to ask the next group of students. Harry heard Ron say “Quidditch.” So did Kirke, Sloper and the girl Ron was talking to. However, much to his surprise, Hermione looked _straight_ at Harry as she said, “Dueling” quite defiantly to Professor MacDonald. Harry just stared at her, but Hermione wasn’t looking at him anymore. She was looking at Ginny.

 _Great_ , Harry thought, _I’m in the middle of a three-way contest now_.

Harry turned around to look at the group.

Natalie laughed, then looked between Ginny and Gabrielle. “Well,” she said, “There go your chances to make it into the finals.”

Gabrielle gulped. Ginny objected, “McGonagall said the idea of the heats for the Contest of Wands was to select a four-member contingent to represent Hogwarts in knockouts against the four-member teams from other schools. Harry’s just going to take one spot – there are still three other spots on the school team.”

“So sure of me?” Harry asked.

“Always,” Ginny said without missing a beat. Harry smiled. Gabrielle huffed.

“More like _two_ spots, if I was allowed to take part as a Hogwarts student,” the half-veela said cockily.

“So sure you’d be able to snag a spot against _us_?” Ginny asked her archly.

“Always,” Gabrielle said, imitating Ginny’s voice. Ginny scowled.

“I look forward to making you eat dust in our duel, _Gabby_ ,” Ginny barked at Gabrielle.

“And I look forward to seeing you drop out before the finals even _begin_ , Gin-Gin,” Gabrielle fired right back. Then she winked flirtatiously at Harry and blew a kiss at Ginny. Ginny blushed – though Harry wasn’t sure if it was because she was flummoxed by Gabrielle’s kiss or if she was angered by Gabrielle’s words.

“Is there… something between you two?” Natalie asked, puzzled.

“Like a grudge, or something?” Nandini added.

“Oh, it’s a _very_ big grudge. Like… _huge_. Like a giant pe…” Demelza began, but Ginny interrupted.

“Oh, nothing at all,” Ginny said in a saccharine voice.

Gabrielle just smiled sweetly at her.

 _A very long year indeed_ , Harry thought. At least he had the duels to look forward to.

***

_Hogwarts, mid-November_

The Lake shimmered with the reflections of thousands of stars as the Hogwarts students milled about outside the grounds to welcome the visitors that would soon appear to take part in first round of the tournament; the international schools would take on each other for the first time. The preliminary rounds to whittle down the school teams were now over with. Apparently, Salem Witches’ Institute had dropped out of the tournament altogether, leaving four schools – Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, Mahoutokoro and Hogwarts – taking part in the actual tournament.

As such, the Quidditch tournament would be a normal round-robin contest where each school would play against the other three, turn by turn. Harry was secretly elated that his girlfriend had made it in as Chaser for the Hogwarts school team. So had Demelza and Ron, as Chaser and Keeper respectively.

The Quiz would also follow a similar round-robin pattern – each school team would face off against every other team. Nandini had made it into the Hogwarts team.

However, what really excited Harry was the Contest of Wands. Apparently, the duel would have sixteen participants from four schools – since duels were not fought as _teams_. As such, the duels would basically follow a knock-out format. Sixteen contestants whittled down to eight, then to four, and then the finals.

Harry had made it through all of his duels against fellow Hogwarts students without a single loss. He had beaten Ginny _and_ Hermione one after the other in his initial duels – but both girls seemed to take it in stride. To be honest, Harry was a bit disappointed though – _none_ of his duels had lasted beyond a _minute_. It was _ridiculous_ – there were actually “minute-man” jokes floating around now. The longest duel he had been subjected to was Hermione, and that was because he had held back, only to get bored; he then unleashed a barrage of spells that caught his best friend off guard. And so, he had secured a spot on the team quite effortlessly.

It had been really interesting to watch certain other duels though. Especially those of Gabrielle Delacour – the girl had _not_ been making empty boasts when she had said her spot was assured. She was _incredibly_ skilled with a wand. Apparently, Beauxbatons had a flourishing Dueling Club and Gabrielle had been the top seed at her school’s club. As such, there was _quite_ a bit of resentment against the French girl at Hogwarts – the students had to be assured that Gabrielle wasn’t stealing a spot from any Hogwarts student. And unfortunately for Ginny, she hadn’t made it through to the final team at all. While Harry _did_ think Ginny had performed very well in her duels – she had placed seventh at Hogwarts – Ginny was _humiliated_ by the fact that she lost her duel against Gabrielle.

Harry tried to convince her that Gabrielle had too much experience in dueling tournaments, but that had just set Ginny off again (“ _So you think she’s better than me?!”_ ). To be fair, Gabrielle _had_ defeated Ginny in embarrassing fashion – with a tripping jinx cast immediately after the chime rang. That had been the fastest victory in the tournament and Gabrielle’s superior smirk had only driven the point home. Harry _had_ to admire the half-veela – she made _full_ use of her veela abilities too. Ginny had been sluggish drawing her wand; Harry just _knew_ it was because Gabrielle had used her allure. And it was much the same problem with most male students taking part in the duels – they spent more time drooling at Gabrielle than dueling her.

Which wasn’t to say Gabrielle’s record had been flawless. Hermione had fought _quite_ an epic duel against Gabrielle and the students at Hogwarts were _still_ talking about it. Gabrielle’s allure was useless against heterosexual women, apparently, and Hermione had displayed a level of finesse that had impressed even Flitwick. That had been the _longest_ duel in the entire tournament, going on for well over ten minutes. Where Gabrielle was inhumanly fast, Hermione was graceful. Where the half-veela exerted power, Hermione exhibited precision. It was an amazing duel – but Gabrielle just could not stand up to the Hermione’s repertoire of spells at the end of the day. Hermione had won the duel and it had been Gabrielle’s only loss.

As such, Hermione had secured the second position on the Hogwarts team. Astoria Greengrass – who was _fearsome_ with a wand – and to Harry’s pleasant surprise, Luna Lovegood – absolutely chaotic in her movements and unpredictable with her spells – rounded out the team. Gabrielle, of course, had been assured of a spot in the Beauxbatons school team, seeing as how she had secured more wins than every other member of the Beauxbatons dueling team.

Although, much to the disappointment of the Hogwarts students, Harry and Gabrielle had been the last scheduled match-up for the heats and the whole school had looked forward to it. Unfortunately, McGonagall had called it off the day before the duel was scheduled – the match had no purpose at all. Harry supposed the Headmistress was right – they were assured positions in their respective teams anyway, and if Gabrielle was good enough, he was sure he would meet her in the actual tournament.

As the days passed though, Harry found himself _enchanted_ by the half-veela. She had this _ferocity_ around her that absolutely charmed him – the only duel she had lost had been against Hermione and had been her _first_ duel. She had thrown herself into books and practice after that, and she had improved _amazingly_ over the course of the tournament. Harry was not quite sure that Hermione would beat Gabrielle the next time they met each other. Moreover, she appeared to be fanatically loyal to him. And her magic seemed to caress him and submit to him each time they crossed each other’s paths.

His love life was a hot mess, in any case. Of course, officially, he was still with Ginny, but Hermione and Gabrielle seemed to take pleasure in approaching him whenever they felt he was, pushing him up and snogging him, or grinding up against him. Of course, the two girls didn’t _know_ the other was using the same tactic. They would also sit next to him at dinner or breakfast and brush their legs against his, or place a hand on his thigh. Lately, they had taken to doing it during class.

Of course, the two did not follow _exactly_ the same tactic. While Hermione seemed content on merely molesting him when she caught him in secluded spots (and so did Gabrielle), the half-veela seemed to have taken up _another_ path as well.

She had taken to snogging Ginny too – only, she seemed to delight in doing so in front of Harry. The first time that had happened was the first Hogsmeade weekend. Harry and Ginny had gone on a walk through the village. Gabrielle had spotted them in a quiet alley near Zonko’s. So the half-veela strode right towards them, and to Harry’s surprise and arousal, she actually slammed _Ginny_ into the wall of Zonko’s and _kissed_ her right on the lips. Ginny had squealed and pushed her off angrily, calling her a pervert and a slut, but Gabrielle had just smirked and walked away.

Later, Ginny had rounded on Harry. “Why didn’t you stop her?” Ginny had asked.

Harry had muttered something inane.

Ginny had pursed her lips. Then she had said, “You… want her to join us, don’t you?”

There had been no accusation in her voice. Just curiosity.

Harry had mumbled, “Only if you want, Ginny.”

Ginny had said nothing.

And then Gabrielle had done it a few more times, all in front of Harry. Each time, Ginny held on for a little longer before shoving the veela away with angry words.

Harry suspected Ginny was both _unnerved_ at Gabrielle’s audacity and turned on by it. Ginny’s emotions were in a constant state of flux – Harry supposed that would go on for a while; but he suspected the redhead would ultimately consent to Gabrielle.

Hermione, though, seemed to be playing an entirely different game. She seemed to _know_ Harry loved her and she seemed utterly confident in herself. Harry was completely puzzled by her behavior though – if she wanted to be _with_ him, why would she still be with Ron? Of course, the Head Boy and Head Girl seemed to be growing more distant by the day.

And so, here Harry was, in mid-November, hugging Ginny from behind as she leaned into him comfortably. They were queued up outside the lake to welcome the schools that would be arriving for the first round of the tournament. Harry, Ginny, Nandini, Gabrielle, Demelza and Natalie were forming a bit of a clique – Hermione drifted in and out, but aside from joining in on study sessions (and snogging him occasionally when no one was looking) she seemed to be an unhappy part of Ron’s group of Quidditch junkies. Nandini, Demelza and Natalie were flanking him and Ginny on either side. Gabrielle was nowhere to be seen – she had to run to the bathroom right before they made their way out and had told them she would join them in a few minutes. Luna had joined them and was standing right beside them, chattering away behind an amused Natalie. A very eager-looking Romilda Vane also stood at the edge of their group, looking like she wanted to join in. And Astoria Greengrass had also made her way to Harry and Luna – the little sixth-year brunette was now peppering Luna with questions about her dueling techniques and occasionally asking Harry a question about who he usually sparred with for practice. Of course, Harry couldn’t really give her a straight answer – unless she was asking about Voldemort, and Harry wasn’t sure he would call that practice.

Of course, there was a _much_ larger crowd at Hogwarts compared to the Triwizard tournament – there were at least three crews from various wizarding channels, armed with recording orbs to film the Meeting of Schools. There were also several visitors from the Ministries of all four countries taking part in the tournament, as well as Hogsmeade residents, who had been temporarily allowed on school grounds to watch the opening, with purchased tickets. McGonagall seemed to be milking the tournament for all it was worth.

Of course, all rounds of the actual tournament would be hosted at Hogwarts. The first quiz match was between Mahoutokoro and Beauxbatons. The first Quidditch match was between Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Both matches would take place the following week at Hogwarts. As for the Contest of Wands, the Round of Sixteen would also be held next week.

And since Hogwarts was the host, the Beauxbatons and Mahoutokoro Quiz and Quidditch teams would visit Hogwarts for their initial matches. Of course, all sixteen dueling participants would be available for the Round of Sixteen – thus, all three schools were poised to officially land at Hogwarts for the Tournament soon, though Durmstrang would only bring its Duelers.

Harry pulled Ginny up against him and rubbed his cheek against her hair. She looked at him and smiled impishly.

“You look beautiful,” Harry said sincerely.

“I could stand to hear that more often,” Ginny said, her eyes widening with mirth and her delicate lips curving into a smile.

Harry kissed her cheek, then turned to look at the night sky as Ginny snuggled against him. There were all gathered around the trunk of a slender rowan tree that grew along the edge of the lake.

***

Hermione grit her teeth as she saw Harry and Ginny cuddle in sickening manner. She was right in the middle of a crowd full of _boys_ – Ron, Kirke, Sloper and Creevey were loudly debating the finer points of each school’s quidditch teams and Hermione was quickly growing tired of the entire _sport_. Everyone seemed almost _intimidated_ by her now that she had placed second in the Hogwarts Dueling heats in terms of total wins, including _Ron_. It was _frustrating_.

She had _loved_ the fact that she had beaten Ginny – the redhead was quite a challenge, but not quite _there_ yet. And the veela – she had _relished_ that hard-fought first victory over the fangirl. Of course, Gabrielle was sure to have something up her sleeve if they ever met in the actual tournament, but Hermione could work hard as well.

Hermione had come to a point in her life where she needed _no_ affirmation from anyone. She had helped Harry beat Voldemort and had established herself as a formidable witch – she was no longer that “upstart Mudblood”. She was a _witch_ – and all that the title entailed. People _respected_ her. She was Head Girl of Hogwarts. Friend of Harry Potter. Brightest witch of her generation. And now, the second best duelist at Hogwarts.

And yet, she couldn’t help but take pleasure in Harry’s proud smile when McGonagall had called out her name immediately after his, announcing that they would be representing Hogwarts. More than ever, _that_ was when Hermione realized Harry _did_ love her. And she was sure of her own feelings now as well.

The problem, of course, was the fact that _if_ Hermione _did_ choose to date him, she would be joining a polyamorous relationship with Harry _and_ Ginny. And she wasn’t quite sure if she wanted to share Harry. And even if she _did_ , she would settle for nothing less than first place in his heart. She _deserved_ that. She _wanted_ that.

Which was why she was going spare watching Harry and Ginny cuddle against a tree in the starlight in front of the dimly lit lake, right in between all the _girls_ from her year, including Luna. She did not miss the looks of longing each of the girls gave the couple occasionally, and it did not slip her mind that every single one of the girls around Harry and Ginny was practically unattached.

Hermione huffed, slipped out of the _boring_ Quidditch conversation going on around her (Ron didn’t even notice, to Hermione’s relief) and made her way across to Harry and Ginny, determinedly pushing people out of the way as she moved through the crowd.

 _That’s it_ , she thought, _Harry’s mine_.

***

Harry tracked Hermione as soon as she started striding towards him. She saw him look at her and smiled. Harry said absolutely nothing and just watched her – he was curious and a bit on edge. Hermione, had last felt him up just that morning, at breakfast. She pushed a few Ravenclaw fifth years out of the way and finally reached Harry’s group. “Excuse me,” Hermione said as she pushed past Natalie and Nandini to step _right_ into Harry’s space. And then she wedged a hand between Harry and Ginny. Harry tensed, but Hermione pushed _forward_ with all her strength.

***

Ginny stumbled and slid out of Harry’s loose hug. The redhead let out a yelp as she tumbled forward, but she regained her footing and looked around. All of her friends were just staring at Hermione who had apparently stepped right into their midst.

“Sorry,” Hermione said, looking abashed, “I didn’t mean to do that.”

Ginny frowned and said, “It’s okay.”

And then the redhead waited for Hermione to move out of the way so she could snuggle with her boyfriend again, but the Head Girl just stood there, right in front of Harry where Ginny had been standing until a moment ago, and looked at her expectantly. Ginny huffed, smoothed her robes and turned around to look up at the sky again.

Harry’s strong arms had been _very_ comfortable. Ginny was slightly disappointed to be deprived of them, but she supposed it was just like Hermione to be so clueless. She shrugged and stood in front of Hermione, flanked by Natalie and a _Romilda_ , much to her distaste. Behind her was Hermione, hemmed in by Nandini and Demelza. And Harry was now behind Hermione, flanked by Luna and Astoria Greengrass, right up against the trunk of the rowan tree.

 _Ah well_ , Ginny thought, _I can always have Harry to myself later_.

***

While it was a cool day – winter was slightly late that year – Harry had chosen to go with a simple school shirt and pants, with a sleeveless sweater on top. Hermione had gone with a similar muggle attire – decked in her standard shirt and a skirt, with a full-sleeved crimson sweater on top that looked dark blue under the night sky. Of course, the other girls, including Ginny, were dressed in full robes – it struck Harry at that moment that, apart from Hermione and himself, all of the students immediately around him were born to wizarding families.

Nonetheless, a small part of Harry wished he had gone with full robes at that moment. For the most part though, Harry was congratulating himself for going with pants.

Primarily because Hermione was unbuttoning her pants – her hands deftly working his zip down even as she faced away from Harry. And worse, Harry did not _want_ to stop her – he _knew_ where Hermione was going with this and he _wanted_ it too. So he pulled out his wand surreptitiously and cast a Notice-Me-Not Charm immediately around him. However, the Notice-Me-Not Charm could only be cast on a single person, or an entire area. And if Harry cast it on himself, even Hermione would have difficulty undoing his pants. On the other hand, Harry found himself unable to cast it on the area immediately around him so as to render just him and Hermione unnoticeable without including the other girls around him – Luna and Astoria were right up against either side and were talking to each other across him. The shore of the lake was beginning to resemble a moshpit, with people crowding the area. So Harry just threw caution to the winds and just cast a rough Notice-Me-Not Charm in his general vicinity. He had no idea if the students on either side fell within the ambit of the spell or not, and he didn’t care – not when his pants were already around his ankles and Hermione was kneading his soft penis, under his boxers, so skilfully with both hands.

Hermione’s hands were stretched behind her own back, _tugging_ at his soft meat – her enthusiasm more than making up for her lack of skill. Harry looked to his left and was relieved to see that Luna did not appear to have noticed that his pants were now bunched up on the ground. And then he turned to his right, and discovered, to his bemusement that Astoria Greengrass was staring diagonally down at his crotch where Hermione’s hands were working over him. Her mouth was open and her face was flushed – she looked like she was torn between being scandalized and being awestruck by Hermione’s audacity. Astoria looked up at him, with the same stunned look, then back at his crotch, then at the back of Ginny’s head. She looked at him again and then just continued staring at what Hermione was doing in frozen surprise.

Then Astoria squealed meekly as Hermione reached her hands _right_ into his boxers, _pushing_ them down with her forearms as she tugged his hardening shaft right out his underwear. Then the Head Girl bent forwards at the waist, pushing Ginny a bit in the process and backed up so that Harry’s semi-hard cock just flopped down all over her ass and back. Then, the most intelligent witch of her generation lifted her skirt up from under his cock so that her entire milky ass was exposed, covered only by a _tiny_ piece of lingerie.

Harry grinned, took hold of his cock and wrenched it through the waistband of Hermione’s panties so that his cock was pressed onto one of her asscheeks as it went through Hermione’s panties and emerged on the other side on her lower back. Then, _both_ Harry and Hermione started moving their hips so that they were _grinding_ against each other every so pleasantly. Hermione’s ass pushed Harry’s balls back and forth under his penis as gasps tumbled out of her mouth and she mashed her tight, slim rear against Harry’s fat cock.

And then, Harry felt a set of hands palm his ass. He looked behind him in surprise and traced the hands back to their owner – Luna Lovegood. Luna was giving him an uncharacteristically astute smile. The busty blonde bespectacled girl leaned in and whispered, “You have bad case of Nasty Wrackspurts, Harry. They’re making you randy.”

“Uh,” Harry asked, “Won’t you contract them by touching me?”

“Maybe,” Luna said thoughtfully, “But it’s worth the risk, Harry.”

Harry just stared as Luna continued palming his backside. “So… muscular, Harry, like the hindlegs of a Snorcack,” Luna said happily, as she tried to squeeze his ass but failed because of the knots of muscle on it. Then she withdrew her hand off Harry’s rear and placed it right on top of his cock on Hermione’s ass.

“So _huge_ ,” Luna murmured.

“Yep,” a new voice joined in. Harry looked up to see Demelza smirking at him. And to his surprise, Nandini seemed to be aware of the entire situation and was watching him with a scandalized expression akin to Astoria. Thankfully, Ginny, Romilda and Natalie were otherwise occupied and seemed to be outside the ambit of the charm.

Harry just could _not_ stop. His cock was now completely erect, threatening to tear Hermione’s panties by stretching it around his cock. Luna was feeling him up near the base of his shaft with an odd smile on her face. And Hermione was just grinding against him ruthlessly, shaking her ass up and down his captured penis, palpitating his balls with each downstroke.

And then _Demelza_ ’s hand joined Luna’s, kneading him ever so pleasantly as he continued to rub his cock on Hermione’s bottom. Both of them were massaging the _top_ of his shaft, while his sensitive underskin continued grinding back and forth across Hermione’s tiny, but _gorgeously_ perky ass.

Luna’s hand moved _up_ his shaft and then under his shirt as she started feeling up every curve of his abdominal muscles. Harry couldn’t take it anymore.

He slid _out_ from between Hermione’s panties and her asscrack; then he pulled her panties down. He could hardly believe this was happening – two gorgeous girls were beating him off while he dry humped his best friend. He pulled back a bit and glanced down to see Hermione’s twat, but his shaft was in the way. Gingerly, Harry pushed his cock out of the way, angling it against Hermione’s left cheek, so that it was pointing straight up into the air to his left with his balls flush against Hermione’s soft arsecheek.

Her pussy looked as tight as ever. Her gorgeous lips seemed to be zipped up against each other so that her slit was an incredibly tiny tear on her hairless skin, letting her arousal trickle out drop by drop.

Then he registered something hot and wet touch the tip of his sensitive cockhead. Harry looked to his left – his bulbous head was level with his lower chest. He saw an _incredible_ sight. Luna, who had been standing to his left, was now hunched over his cockhead. When Harry had angled his rod sideways, he had inadvertently pointed it straight in Luna’s direction, and the blonde girl had taken full advantage.

She was licking the curve of his purplish-pink dome almost _hungrily_ , lashing at his head and _only_ his head in delightful fashion, as if trying to scoop up his pre-cum with her tongue. She _squeezed_ both her fists around his tackle, around an inch below his dome, so as to hold it in place as she lapped away, her tongue weaving hot wet trails across his skin.

Then, she saw him staring at her. Luna stopped licking for a moment and said dreamily, “It just looked _so_ tasty and smells _so_ nice. A clear sign of Wrackspurt infestation, Harry. And everyone knows the only way to get rid of Wrackspurts is to _lick_ them off.”

She continued to lick away as if his head was a particularly tasty lollipop. Harry looked around carefully at the crowd milling about him – he was spooning the Head Girl right behind his girlfriend while yet _another_ girl French-kissed his penis. Apart from Demelza (who had now turned around to face him and was running her hands under his shirt, completely forgetting that they were supposed to face forward), Nandini (who had also turned around, her face crimson with shock and arousal as she stared at Luna licking his cock, which was hovering right in the dusky Indian girl’s grasp) and Astoria (who was still pinkfaced with her mouth open in shock), no one else seemed to have noticed. Harry’s Notice-Me-Not Charm had obviously done its job.

Harry snapped his neck right back and groaned softly as Luna _slurped_ on the side of his head, her lips kissing it deeply. He leant against the tree lazily and pushed Hermione’s ass back and forth against his balls, under his shaft, which was angling up into Luna’s face.

Luna, after lapping at his cock hungrily for a while, drew off and _pushed_ it so that it was _right_ in Nandini’s face.

“It’s very tasty,” Luna said in a matter-of-fact tone, as if she was offering the other girl a piece of toast that she had been happily munching on until now, “Care to try it?”

Nandini just stared between his cock and Luna, as if she could not believe the blonde was being perfectly serious. Her mouth parted, as if she was torn, and then she _plunged_ her face forward so that her plump lips met his cock with a wet _kiss_. Nandini moaned and Harry felt her lips part right on his head as her tongue snaked out to _taste_ his meat. She _lathered_ his cock with her tongue, her eyes closing in delight as she sampled his meat – judging by her expression, she found it _delightful_.

Astoria gasped and Demelza crowed, “Look at the _nerd_ go!”

“The only _nerd_ Harry should care about at this particular moment,” Hermione said in a low husky voice, wiggling her ass against him, “Is right in front of him.”

Harry grunted and pushed his cock towards her, but _both_ Luna and Nandini grabbed it, saying “No!” in unison (or at least, Harry _thought_ Nandini said _no_ – her mouth was still plastered to the side of his cock, so her refusal sounded more like “NNNNNNFFFFFFFFFF!”). And then _Luna_ leaned in and kissed the _other_ side of his cockhead, where Nandini _wasn’t_ lathering it with her spit.

“Holy _crap_ , Harry!” Demelza exclaimed, “Their tongues don’t even _touch_.”

“It’s not supposed to _be_ that big,” Astoria murmured faintly.

“ _Harry_ ,” Hermione insisted, wiggling her ass delightfully again.

Demelza grinned and then reached across Hermione’s back. She caught his shaft with both her hands and _pulled_ it out of the grasp of both Luna and Nandini, who panted hungrily and glared at the chaser.

Demelza opened her mouth as wide as she could and then _plunged_ down on his spit soaked head as she angled his cock to his right. She _sank_ down, filling her mouth with a quarter of his cock, and _gagged_. Loudly.

Astoria shrieked, testing the limits of his Notice-Me-Not. Demelza was now bent right over Hermione’s back as she tried _desperately_ to give him a blowjob – the girl had obviously never done this before. She _choked_ around his bulb, but doggedly bobbed up and down so that she was slobbering all over his shaft, her tongue desperately trying to slither out from where it was sandwiched between his cockhead and her lower palate and taste every inch of him she could reach.

After fifteen whole seconds of suffocating on his cock, she drew off with a gasp. “I’ve been wanting to do this _forever_ ,” she said happily and then _plunged_ right back.

She made a _grrk_ sound as his cock slammed into the opening of her esophagus and Harry groaned as Demelza chomped on his cock with her _lips_ , slobbering over it.

She drew off again with a _pop_ and said, astonished, “I never _dreamed_ it could be this tasty.”

“Give it _back_ ,” Nandini whined, reaching across Hermione, but Demelza slapped her hands away.

“Harry,” Hermione said in a low voice, “If you don’t put your big badonkadonk in my cooch right _now_ , I am going to _bash_ these little _sluts_ with my bare hands.”

Even _Luna_ looked intimidated at that – Hermione had defeated her quite handily in the preliminary round of dueling. Demelza quietly let go of his cock and it _smacked_ right on Hermione’s ass again, his head bouncing on her back.

Harry circled her ass with his cock, tracing the curve of her bum as he angled his cock _around_ her ass and then grazed her thighs as he pushed his erect penis down. Then his shaft _snapped_ up as he let go between her thighs, _smacking_ right onto her dripping cunt.

Hermione moaned.

Harry pushed his ass back against the rough wood of the tree behind him, so that his cockhead was hovering a millimeter in front of Hermione’s pussy. Then he _pushed_. His bell-shaped head _parted_ Hermione’s tight lips _ever_ so slightly.

“ _No. Way_ ,” Astoria murmured, staring at the junction where Harry’s head was struggling to snuggle into Hermione’s box.

Nandini and Demelza were craning their heads and peering at Hermione’s slit with wide eyes.

“Way too tiny,” Demelza said in a choked voice, “No way _that_ is going to fit in _there_.”

Nandini nodded mutely, still staring at his cock hungrily.

“Stranger things have happened,” Luna said serenely and licked her lips as she stared at his cock.

Hermione half-panted, half-laughed as she squirmed, feeling his head slowly part her lower lips as it made its ponderous way inside her tight tunnel. “You… _sluts_ … lubricated his cock well enough for me,” she said, “I should… _thank_ … you.”

Nandini looked mortified and Demelza flushed. “Bitch,” the chaser said, annoyed.

“ _Head_ bitch,” Hermione corrected, “You don’t have the _juice_ to get fresh with me, Robins.”

Harry ignored the banter as he steadily twisted his cock this way and that, desperately trying to _create_ space inside Hermione’s cunt. Her snatch was practically _gushing_ but her slit was so tight even the fluids that sought to escape were _dripping_ down instead of _flowing_ out. Harry _pushed_ off the tree as his head burst past her lips. Hermione gasped.

“I’d… forgotten… how… _big_ … it was,” she choked.

“You two have had sex _before_?” Astoria asked in a hushed voice.

“Wait,” Demelza said, “Is Ginny loaning you _out_?”

“I want in,” Nandini said immediately.

Demelza grinned. “I _knew_ you were naughty,” she said to the dusky girl, “All it took was one taste of Harry’s big, fat cock.”

Nandini blushed.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Hermione blurted as Harry worked his way deeper into her tight little gash.

Hermione flailed around for support – she had been precariously bent over and her legs felt particularly weak. She caught onto the shoulders of the person right in front of her.

Harry realized, with a start, that Hermione had just caught hold of Ginny’s shoulders. _Oh crap_ , he thought, _please let the charm hold, please let her not notice…_

And Ginny huffed, but didn’t bother turning around. Harry sighed in relief and grinned as he pushed a little further in.

“He’s _stuffing_ it in,” Astoria murmured, “It’s like watching a dragon make love to a little bird.”

Demelza giggled. “You say the weirdest things,” Nandini said. All four girls around Harry were staring at his shaft making its slow way into Hermione’s box now.

And then, out of the blue, Harry felt a hand descend on his ass with a loud, resounding _smack_ and Harry thrust forward reflexively, _spearing_ Hermione with his cock in a single thrust. Her inner walls _wrenched_ apart as Harry’s cock sheathed itself within her and _bashed_ against her cervix.

Hermione _screamed_ , but Harry acted just as quickly – he snapped his wand forward and silenced the bushy-haired Gryffindor in a split second.

“I didn’t even _see_ him draw his wand!” Astoria exclaimed.

Harry held his cock in place and looked around. Luna was wearing an impish smile on her face. She had obviously been the one that had spanked him.

“Oh,” the blonde said, an uncharacteristically naughty smile playing at the edge of her lips, “Just thought I’d speed it up. We don’t want to miss the entrance of the other schools.”

Hermione was panting silently now. Harry waved his wand again and pocketed it. The Head Girl was audible again.

“Luna,” she wheezed, “I will… _destroy_ … you… if we… _ever_ … meet… in a duel… again.”

Luna just kept grinning. “And our hero of the day is… _Luna_ ,” Demelza stage-whispered and Nandini giggled.

“Pays to be nice, Hermione,” Harry said diplomatically.

“Shut the _fuck_ up,” Hermione muttered coldly, “And start _fucking_ me up.”

Harry slapped his hands around her hips and held them firmly in his hands. He felt Luna and Demelza on either side place their palms against his biceps, feeling them as his muscles bunched up in preparation. He _knew_ how incredibly tight Hermione was – he was going to have to _scrape_ against her inner walls if he wanted friction.

And he started moving, _slowly_. He had been right – Hermione fit around his cock like an incredibly tight condom. Her wet walls _clung_ to his cock like silky film as he _scrubbed_ in and out of her muffin. Hermione was _still_ holding onto Ginny, rocking back and forth ever so slightly as Harry sawed his cock in and out slightly, _pushing_ at her cervix, and then letting it relax as he drew out.

Harry was touching every _bit_ of her vaginal canal at _once_ , her g-spot was being _ground_ by his cock as he _pushed_ back and forth. Hermione could feel her orgasm beginning and her body spasmed.

“She’s like a little _cock-sleeve_ ,” Demelza said in awe.

“More like _Head_ cock-sleeve,” Nandini said drily, “She _does_ have the juice to get fresh with Harry, don’t you think?”

“She’s _pumping_ it out by the gallons,” Demelza said.

“She can’t even _speak_ ,” Astoria said.

Then Harry felt a palm on his ass again, between him and the trunk of the tree behind him. He looked around at Luna, but both _her_ hands were now on his bicep. He turned to his right and saw Astoria’s flushed face. The pretty brunette had a hand on his ass as she turned to _push_ her breasts up against his triceps. She reached a hand around the front of his stomach and tried to encircle the part of his shaft where it met his midriff.

“ _Merlin_ ,” Astoria breathed, “How does this thing even _fit_ in there?”

Harry groaned and started pushing in and out of Hermione even harder. The Head Girl was now moaning almost continuously as he slid in and out, _pushing_ and _pulling_ at her outer lips as he did so. Hermione’s body was spasming more frequently now.

“I think she’s _cumming_ ,” Nandini said.

“ _Fuhhhh_ ,” Hermione breathed as Harry started upping the ante, his grip around her hips tightening almost painfully as he held her in place with incredible strength.

“Look at her _face_ ,” Demelza said in glee, “You’ve never seen the Head Girl like _this_ before.”

Nandini frowned. “She’s moaning in Ginny’s _ear_ ,” she said, “So why hasn’t Ginny…”

“Notice-Me-Not,” Harry said.

“Yeah, I’m not feeling guilty… like… _at all_ ,” Demelza said flatly.

“Neither am I,” Nandini said, her eyes snapping back to Harry’s cock sliding in and out, speckled with Hermione’s pussy juices, “I was just curious.”

Astoria was _tugging_ at his shaft around his base as he slid his cock in and out of Hermione’s cunt. She giggled as she watch Hermione’s lips stretch obscenely in the direction she tugged his cock in.

“She’s so _tight_ ,” the petite brunette said, her voice laced with humor, “Her cunt is like tightly wrapped _silk_ , stretched into an O-shape.”

She tugged Harry’s cock up. “But I can make it go from O to zero and then back,” she concluded.

“Astoria,” Hermione hissed, “ _Nnnnnnnn…”_

Her “no” trailed off as Harry _pushed_ Astoria’s palm out of the way and _really_ started pounding into Hermione. Her walls clung to his cock so tight that he felt he was _pulling_ them in and out as he fucked in and out of her twat.

“Goodness,” Nandini said, “He’s _destroying_ her.”

“But what a way to go,” Demelza supplied.

“Look at the _amount_ of cunt-juice on his dick!” Astoria said.

“I’ve got more in my panties right _now_ ,” Luna said.

“Unnnnnnhhhhhhhh!” Hermione moaned, “Moooommmmmyyyyyy!”

Demelza grinned. “You guys heard that, right?” she asked, “You all heard the Head Girl crying out for Mommy?”

Luna nodded and Astoria giggled.

“He’s practically _sculpting_ her vagina now to fit him,” Nandini murmured.

Astoria pressed up against his side and started kissing his shoulder. “I don’t know about you guys,” the brunette murmured between kisses, “But I’m definitely losing my virginity this year.”

“Dibs on Harry,” Nandini said immediately.

“Get in line, _nerd_ ,” Demelza said.

“Oh, I’m next, girls,” Luna said firmly, “I have to get those Wrackspurts off before he infects you.”

“NNNNNNNN,” Hermioned moaned as her cunt started _convulsing_ and dribbling juices. Her body spasmed and shuddered as her orgasm hit her with the force of a freight train. She was getting a bit _too_ loud and Harry could feel the charm twinge. This time, however, Demelza waved _her_ wand, silencing Hermione.

“Always wanted to shut the Head Girl up,” she said mischievously, “Especially when she goes off on one of her stupid rants about make-up.”

“I think her point was that you don’t _need_ so much make-up, Demelza,” Nandini said, “You looked like a _clown_ before you cleaned up.”

Demelza scowled. “Well, _Hermione_ can afford to say that – she’s _gorgeous_ ,” the chaser muttered.

“I think you’re very good-looking, Demelza,” Harry said helpfully as he pistoned in and out of Hermione, his tingling balls now slapping loudly against her ass.

“How do you _do_ that?” Astoria asked, laying her cheek against his shoulder as she watched him _ruin_ Hermione, “How do you concentrate through… _that_?”

“Practice,” Harry said casually and his pace _doubled_.

“Holy _fuck_ ,” Nandini gasped.

Hermione’s face was _red_ and her mouth was open in a silent scream.

Her pussy was spasming in _ridiculously_ rapid fashion around his shaft as he hammered in and out of her cunt, juices gushing out in _streams_ down his cock now.

***

Ginny was absolutely _annoyed_. Hermione was jerking her back and forth by her shoulders – she had been doing so for the past half-hour and Ginny could _feel_ her panting against her ear. She supposed she should turn around to see what the commotion was about, but things kept distracting her. Romilda kept asking her stupid questions about what Harry was like and Natalie kept pointing at different girls and laughing at them. Ginny was more keen on listening to Natalie’s gossip, but Vane’s ludicrous questions about Harry were starting to annoy her.

“How big is he?” Romilda asked, and Ginny was actually a little nonplussed by the utterly worshipful gaze that the heavy-lidded girl gave her, “Is he _good_?”

Ginny sighed. And to think she had been so comfortably ensconced in Harry’s arms just moments ago.

***

Gabrielle was _annoyed_. She was _trying_ to make her way through the crowd, using her allure to _push_ men out of her way and _physically_ pushing women out, but she just could _not_ find Harry. She had been searching for the better part of an hour. They had told her they would against a lone rowan tree near the lake, and Gabrielle _had_ spotted it (of course, Gabrielle could not tell a rowan from a pine, but there was only one tree on the shore of the lake), but Harry was nowhere to be seen. Eventually, after shoving more people out of the way, she finally spotted Ginny and Natalie, talking to a good-looking brunette with excessive make-up.

But Harry was just not there and neither was her usual group of other friends. Gabrielle frowned and pointed her wand in Ginny’s direction. “ _Point Me, Harry_ ,” she intoned, silently thanking Harry for teaching her the simple spell.

And the wand lit up as it pointed straight at Ginny.

Gabrielle’s frown grew into a scowl. Something was _very_ wrong here. She _tried_ to look behind Ginny, but her eyes slid _right_ over the tree.

And then it struck her. There was a _very_ powerful obscuring spell in work _right_ behind Ginny. _Harry_ , Gabrielle thought.

“ _Specialis Revelio_ ,” she murmured, concentrating on her knowledge of obscuring spells. Her wand lit up with a purplish hue.

 _Notice-Me-Not_ , she thought as she recognized the spell. Obviously, Harry had cast it – she didn’t know of any other student that could cast it with such raw power.

_But why?_

Gabrielle had no desire to try and dispel the spell – Harry had cast it for a reason and she had no desire to disturb him. However, she _was_ curious and wanted to know _why_ Harry had cast an obscuring charm right behind his own girlfriend.

The Notice-Me-Not charm, while _very_ effective against non-magical folk, had obvious limitations – no matter how much power was exerted in casting it. It could be overcome by remarkably strong-willed magical folk with ease. It could also be _expanded_ to include individuals _other_ than the caster – because of its nature as a charm.

Charms, while still falling under the purview of _spells_ , were _different_ from curses and hexes in obvious ways. For one, charms exhibited more complex effects on their intended targets than hexes and could be _controlled_ after being unleashed. However, the _less_ powerful charms could be controlled by persons _other_ than the caster as well, making it relatively easy to dispel them or alter them after they had been cast.

And so, Gabrielle, just as she approached the tree from the side, extended her wand and silently reached out with her own magic, _pulling_ at the edges of Harry’s charm boundary. It snapped like a string and then twisted _around_ her, including _her_ in its spell.

She gaped at the sight.

Hermione was _shuddering_ with her mouth wide open – obviously screaming under a silencing spell – as she held onto Ginny’s shoulder for dear life and a grinning Harry _pounded_ in and out of her like a maniac. And worse, Luna, Astoria, Nandini and Demelza were watching demurely from the sidelines, _pawing_ over Harry’s arms and chest like horny groupies.

Hermione’s arse – while _far_ smaller than Gabrielle’s jutting ass or Ginny’s wide booty – was _bouncing_ and _rippling_ as Harry hammered in and out of her at a _tremendous_ pace. His enormous cock _flashed_ in and out, and Gabrielle could _hear_ his cock _scraping_ Hermione’s insides ( _Morgana,_ Gabrielle thought, _He wasn’t making that sound when he made love to me_ ). And now that she was included in the charm, she could hear everything – the _smack-smack-smack_ sound Harry’s balls were making as they slapped against Hermione’s thighs, the panting of the women who were pawing at Harry, Ginny talking casually with Natalie and the chatter of the students around her.

It was a _ludicrous_ scene – made even hotter by the fact that even _Ginny_ didn’t seem to have noticed that Harry was pounding into his best friend (and to Gabrielle’s chagrin, the girl who had bested _her_ in a duel) right _behind_ her.

Gabrielle had never felt so _furious_ and _aroused_ before – not since Harry had fucked her own sister in front of her. She felt _betrayed_.

And for the first time since she had been freed by Harry, she felt _intimidated_. She had been wearing Ginny down in the hopes of joining her relationship with Harry. But _Hermione_ was a whole different ballgame – the petite, _beautiful_ Head Girl was completely straight and Gabrielle’s allure had no effect on her.

Moreover, Hermione had a relationship with Harry that had lasted _years_ – if she wanted to graduate from best friend to lover, Harry would agree in a heartbeat. Gabrielle wanted to be _foremost_ in his group – she would _not_ settle for _second_ place. But Hermione seemed to be _well_ on her way there.

And the Head Girl was a sexual rival as well, judging by the sound Harry’s cock was making as it pulverized her insides. Harry was _grunting_ with pleasure.

 _Damn_ , Gabrielle thought, _and just when I thought I was nearly there…_

And then she was pulled out of her thoughts when Harry moaned. Hermione was convulsing around his cock, her legs shuddering as she threatened to collapse. Only Harry’s strong grip on her hips stopped Hermione from falling over.

Then Harry grunted again.

Gabrielle watched silently from the side as Harry’s cock began to recoil in a manner Gabrielle had seen before. He plunged _deep_ into Hermione and held himself in place as he discharged what Gabrielle surmised was load after hot load of his seed. The girls around him squealed.

Finally after nearly a minute, Harry _pulled_ out, Hermione’s outer vaginal lips distending _out_ as Harry’s cock – gleaming with Hermione’s cum – spilled out and a spray of pussy juice mixed with sperm – hemmed in by Harry’s cock – hit the ground, flowing out from Hermione’s gushing quim.

The Head Girl shuddered as she collapsed against Harry’s thigh. He laughed and patted Hermione’s head softly. He pulled Hermione up and kissed her. Hermione hugged him close as Harry mauled her ass, _pulling_ her cheeks apart. Gabrielle saw Hermione’s incredibly tiny slit part, her lips still quivering with pleasure, as dollops of semen streamed out of it and ran down her thighs. Almost like a twat was _weeping_. Hermione then turned around and Harry let her lean on his chest; with a wave of his wand, Hermione’s skirt was back in place. He then pointed his wand around at Hermione’s tummy from the front and murmured something. His wand glowed orange and Hermione sighed.

 _Anti-pregnancy_ , Gabrielle thought.

And then he just held Hermione as they both stared out in a pleasant haze. The other girls leaned against Harry from the sides as well.

Gabrielle frowned. She didn’t care about the other four – only _Hermione_ concerned her.

Hermione… and the _look_ in Harry’s eyes as he held her in his strong arms. Gabrielle had _never_ seen him look like _that_ before. He looked like he was in…

 _No_ , Gabrielle thought furiously. She _needed_ to talk to Ginny.

***

“You… _what?_ ” Gabrielle asked Ginny, “ _How_ many women did you let him sleep with?”

Ginny stared at Gabrielle. They were alone in their dormitory.

“I… uh,” and Ginny trailed off.

“Ginny, _please_ ,” Gabrielle pleaded.

“I guess… uh, Fleur,” Ginny said.

“I know that,” Gabrielle said. “But who _else_?”

“Angelina… that was just _once_ though,” Ginny said, “Audrey seems to be… uh… interested as well, but they haven’t really done anything yet. And… uh, my mom.”

“Your _mother_?” Gabrielle asked incredulously, then shook her head. She had no idea _why_ the redhead was doing this – she had initially chalked it up to being due to Ginny’s suppressed desire for women. And that still _could_ be the reason, but she felt like there was something far more powerful at work here. She wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth though.

“Fine,” Gabrielle said, as Ginny started to justify her actions, “Who else?”

“Hermione,” Ginny said flatly, “But that was just _once_ … _way_ before Christmas.”

Gabrielle really wanted to let Ginny know that Harry had been shagging Hermione as recently as the day before, but she simply could _not_ bring herself to say _anything_ against her Harry.

“Why _Hermione_?” Gabrielle prodded.

“She’s attached to Ron,” Ginny said, “She’s not _really_ in love with Harry or anything. _All_ of the girls that have… _been_ … with Harry, have been attached in a relationship.” Ginny paused, then added nastily, “Except for _you_.”

Gabrielle scoffed internally. _Hermione was_ _not really in love with Harry my foot_.

“Ginny,” the half-veela said, her voice rising in pitch, “Angelina and Audrey are practically strangers to Harry. One was once his Quidditch captain and teammate and the other is a model he’s seen in posters. Your mother has been with your father for _decades_ – she’s not going to leave him now.”

“What about Fleur?” Ginny asked archly.

“My sister,” Gabrielle said through gritted teeth, “She has a _wondrous_ ability to compartmentalize. When she’s with Bill, she’s _with_ Bill. And when she’s with Harry… trust me, she’s a _slut_. But she’s no threat.”

“Threat?” Ginny asked shrilly, “To me?”

“To us,” Gabrielle said.

“Keep dreaming,” Ginny said, although her oft-repeated refrain had long since lost its sting.

“The _real_ problem,” Gabrielle said, casually ignoring Ginny’s bluster, “… is Hermione Granger. She’s been with your _oaf_ of a brother for… what… _months_?”

“She’s been his friend for _years_ ,” Ginny protested.

“It doesn’t _matter_ ,” Gabrielle said, “She has a _lot_ more in common with Harry. She has _nothing_ in common with Ron, _except_ for Harry.”

“I don’t see your point,” Ginny said coldly.

Gabrielle huffed. “Ginny,” she beseeched, “Hermione is in _love_ with Harry. You can see it in her _eyes_. She spends more time _glaring_ at you than _you_ do glaring at _me_. And you, of all people, should know that if she ever comes out and dumps your brother for Harry, he’d _accept_ it.”

“You don’t know that,” Ginny said, though Gabrielle could hear the doubt in her voice. After a beat, Ginny said, “So… let me get this straight. _You_ can join me in a relationship with Harry, but Hermione cannot?”

“Hermione isn’t like _us_ ,” Gabrielle said, “She’ll _never_ share a bed with you and Harry. She’ll be in it _only_ for Harry, _not_ for you. And you know it.”

“And you expect me to believe you’re not in it for Harry too?” Ginny asked, crossing her arms.

“Of course I’m in it for Harry,” Gabrielle said, “But you know _we_ have chemistry too. You know, given time and Harry as a uniting factor, we could _love_ each other Ginny. We could eventually grow to hold equal places in his heart and can _comfort_ each other when he’s not around.

“Can you say the same thing for Hermione? Do you think she _ever_ settles for second place to anyone _but_ Harry?”

There was a very pregnant pause as Gabrielle finished.

“I… need to think,” Ginny said faintly.

With a sinking feeling, Gabrielle realized that she needed to work _with_ Ginny if she wanted to worm her place into his heart _above_ Hermione. It would take _two_ of them to match up against the Head Girl.

***


	10. Showman

 

_Hogsmeade, early December_

“That last fight was _amazing_ ,” Nandini said happily, “Astoria, you shouldn’t be so down on yourself.”

Ginny nodded. “Yep,” she said, “You gave it all you had. We _all_ saw that. Your _opponent_ saw that.”

Astoria blushed. “Yeah,” she said, “He did.”

Demelza grinned. “Oh _sure_ he did,” she said, “The _rose_ and _everything_.”

“I don’t get it,” Gabrielle said, “I mean, I get that Artois is _good_. But he isn’t the best dueler around. Surely not.”

Harry sighed. It was Hogsmeade weekend and his group of friends had taken over an entire table at The Three Broomsticks. The Round of Sixteen had just finished last Friday – the last duel had been between Astoria and a very handsome dueler from Beauxbatons who, for some reason, _loved_ conjuring up a single red rose after every win and gifting it to a lady he deemed “the fairest maiden of the crowd.” _La plus belle femme du foule_.

“Oh, we all realize who the best dueler around is,” Natalie said in a flat voice, looking _right_ at Harry. He had beaten his Durmstrang opponent with less than three spells. Then she grinned and continued, “But _finishing_ in under a minute is _so_ boring. Sure, he _finished_ , but where’s the fun in _that_?”

Gabrielle smiled. “I’m sure Harry can go for hours when it counts,” she said airily.

The girls looked around at Ginny, expecting her to huff as usual when Gabrielle said something risqué about Harry, but Ginny just smirked and looked at Gabrielle. “Indeed,” the redhead said, just as airily, “I would _know_.”

“I wouldn’t mind being Artois’ _belle femme_ though,” Natalie said with a smile. Then she looked at Astoria, “So where’s the rose he gave you?”

Astoria just shook her head. “I’m not going to _keep_ it,” Astoria said hotly, “He gave it to me after he _beat_ me.”

“Very charming though,” Ginny supplied.

“And humiliating,” Gabrielle said, “It was almost _condescending_.”

Astoria nodded. Natalie just stared between Gabrielle and Astoria.

“Well,” Natalie said firmly, “ _I_ happen to think it’s very charming and chivalrous.”

“And sexist,” Gabrielle insisted.

Harry sighed again. Recently, he had begun to feel _very_ restless - it was an unnatural, unpleasant feeling. Almost like it was coming from _outside_ his own mind. He felt _frustrated_ and alternated moods _very_ rapidly – his mind was in turmoil. Although, Harry knew why – the Elder Wand was not pleased with the action it was getting. And it was starting again – the ache, the bloodlust, the pounding in his ears before he had taken on the giants in France. And being surrounded by good-looking women did not help – it only seemed to make his _lust_ stronger. He looked around at the bar, hoping for something to distract him, only to spot Hagrid talking to Madam Rosmerta.

“Hagrid’s here,” he said happily, “He’s recovered.”

Ginny looked around. “That’s _great_ ,” the redhead said, “He seems to be in good shape.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, and then looked around at the girls. “Sorry, ladies, you’ll have to excuse me. I’m going to go over and say hi to my oldest friend in the Wizarding World.”

The girls nodded. Ginny kissed him goodbye; Gabrielle and Demelza winked at him and Astoria slapped his arse as he got up only to be met with a thunderous scowl from Ginny.

Harry grit his teeth as he felt Astoria _smack_ his ass. _Not helping_ , he thought as all the voices in his head _screamed_ at him to turn around and _take_ Astoria like the _whore_ that she was. _She’s not a whore_ , Harry thought hotly.

Harry moved away from the table as quickly as he could and made his way over to Hagrid through the bustling crowd. He glanced back at the table and saw that his space had been taken over by Hermione. Despite himself, he smiled – Hermione had been making a conscientious effort to join his group of friends and he approved. She seemed to get along very well with Nandini and Astoria. Ginny and Gabrielle were a bit guarded around her though – and Harry was pretty sure he knew why.

He turned around and saw that he had reached the bar. He slapped a hand loudly on Hagrid’s back and roared, “Hagrid! Y’alright?”

Hagrid turned in his seat – towering over Harry even when seated. A grin broke out across his face and he smiled. “Harry! Yeh’re all grown up. Got some meat in yer body now, eh?”

Harry squeezed into the stool right next to Hagrid and gestured to Rosmerta for a glass of butterbeer, dropping knuts onto the table.

“I guess I have,” he said nonchalantly, “How are things going?”

“’M fine,” Hagrid said, “Been spendin’ the last year travelling ‘round Eastern Europe.”

“Looking for magical creatures?” Harry asked curiously.

“Yeah,” Hagrid said, “Been meetin’ with giants too. A lot keener to negotiate now that… Tom… is gone.”

He shuddered, shaking his stool in the process.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said.

“Yeh saved me,” Hagrid said somberly as he waved him off, “Yeh saved all of us. Harry, I’m proud of yeh – nothin’ to be sorry about.”

“No,” Harry murmured, “It wasn’t just me. It was _everyone_. Neville, Hermione, Ron, Dumbledore, Snape, you – it was _all_ of us that saved ourselves.”

Hagrid smiled faintly. Harry nudged him and asked, “So, you’re liaising with the giants for… someone?”

“Yeah,” Hagrid said, his voice rising again as they moved on to more comfortable topics, “For the ICW. They’ve seen what the giants can do when they’re not cared for. The ICW wants to work toward a future where all beings are considered equal an’ all that.”

“I see,” Harry said, “They want to avoid the rise of another Voldemort. He succeeded in wooing all of these creatures to their side because of a perceived disparity between how humans treated themselves and how humans treated _them_. Understandable.”

Hagrid looked at him curiously. After a pause, he said, “Yeh’ve changed Harry. Yeh sound like Dumbledore.”

“I…” Harry started and then murmured, “Thank you.”

***

Harry saw the girls get up and leave after an hour. Ginny looked at him questioningly and Harry shook his head, indicating that they could go on without him. She nodded and left with the rest of the gang.

Harry turned back to his conversation with Hagrid. They had talked about giant customs, about how Grawp was doing and about Norbert in Romania.

Harry felt really happy for Hagrid - the half-giant seemed to be doing _very_ well for himself. But now, as the conversation proceeded, Harry had a sudden epiphany. Hagrid was one of the few people that could _really_ tell him about Dumbledore without getting too suspicious when Harry asked some strange questions. Harry didn’t quite like using his friend in this manner, but he _needed_ that information.

There was a brief pause in the conversation and Harry pushed forth, “Hagrid,” Harry said, “I… uh… sort of had a request to ask of you.”

Hagrid’s bushy eyebrows rose up. “Sure, Harry,” he said.

“During the… war, there were a lot of things I had to do. With you know, Ron and Hermione. Many of the things I did, though, were… beyond my comprehension.”

Hagrid stared at him, beetle-black eyes looking at him in concern.

“Basically, I did stuff Dumbledore had asked of me. I didn’t _quite_ understand _what_ I was doing though – it’s sort of a very intricate puzzle and like I was just a chess piece Dumbledore was moving around after his… passing.”

Hagrid’s eyes radiated warmth. “I’m sorry, Harry,” he said, “But Dumbledore – great man – thought the world of yeh.”

“I know,” Harry said, “but there were certain things he left unsaid that I don’t _truly_ understand. And I’m trying to put the pieces together now. For that though, I need your help.”

Hagrid frowned, though the warmth in his eyes did not lessen. “I trust yeh, Harry,” the half-giant said, “What do yeh need from me?”

“Memories,” Harry said, “I need memories – not _all_ of them. Just a few memories of Dumbledore from the time you knew him. One memory – for every five years since you landed at Hogwarts.”

Hagrid looked confused. “I don’t mind doing tha’, Harry,” he said, “But… why do yeh want that? Do yeh want specific memories?”

Harry shook his head. “I… don’t know why Dumbledore never told you about this whole thing, Hagrid,” Harry said, “But if you _do_ want to know exactly what Dumbledore told me, I _will_ tell you.”

Hagrid shook his head. “If Dumbledore swore yeh to secrecy, I don’t want to know. I trust both of yeh.”

“Thank you, Hagrid,” Harry said with a smile – and his smile was genuine. “I’m honored that you place so much trust in me. I assure you – I don’t really want any personal memories. Just memories of Dumbledore at the Opening Feast, or doing some magic, or some such. And one memory for every five years from the time you knew him. That’s it.”

Hagrid nodded. “Sounds good to me, Harry,” he said. Then he asked, “When do yeh want to do this?”

“How does tomorrow evening sound?” Harry asked.

“I’ll be in my cabin,” Hagrid said, “’Bout time yeh lot came around for tea.”

Harry grinned. “I’m _so_ glad you came out alright Hagrid,” he said, “I’ll be there. And not just for the memories. But for the pleasure of keeping a _very_ old friend company.”

Hagrid nodded and patted him on the back, sending Harry flying into his glass of butterbeer.

***

Harry walked out of The Three Broomsticks whistling a jaunty tune. He made his way through the town, occasionally greeting other students and frowning at posters of Artois all over the place – the French student had practically become the face of the tournament with his grandiose flourishes, intricate spell-casting and red rose conjurations.

And that was when a voice interrupted his reverie.

“Not happy about the posters, are we?” a husky female voice said, as Harry saw _yet_ another poster of Artois with a red rose superimposed on it, “I know the feeling. I _hate_ it when other models take up shelf space that belonged to me before.”

Harry turned around and looked straight into the blue eyes of Audrey Dittmar, soon to be Audrey Weasley. He cocked his head to the side as he admired the woman standing in front of him. She had a tall, statuesque figure with breasts that were more than a handful and legs that seemed to go on forever. Her lush blonde hair hung in ringlets over her back. High cheekbones, a sharp chin and a cute, perky nose only added to her beauty. She was quite a bit taller than Harry and was dressed in a black three-quarter sleeve jacket over a satin sheath that was apparently an off-shoulder stretch – Harry could see that her neck was bare. She looked almost… muggle.

Yet, despite her incredible attractiveness, she had this _air_ around her – the slight frown at the edges of her lips, or the upturned. But unlike, say, Narcissa Malfoy – who wore a similar expression – it was clear that Audrey wasn’t really being condescending. She didn’t actually think others were beneath her – it just seemed as if she was just incredibly uncomfortable around large crowds. And even at Easter, while she had been _very_ gracious when talking one-on-one with Harry, she had been a bit short with the rest of the Weasley males when they crowded her. Harry surmised that she had led a slightly sheltered life and was just a bit shy with large crowds.

And here she was, talking to him again.

“Miss Dittmar,” Harry greeted.

Audrey raised a dainty hand in the air and waved at him, “Please, call me Audrey.”

“Harry,” he said and held out a hand. She _placed_ her own hand in his, instead of shaking it, so Harry had no choice but to kiss her hand. He felt a bit… medieval.

Audrey giggled.

“What are you doing in this part of Hogsmeade, Harry?” she asked curiously.

Harry looked around – they were standing in the alley behind the Hog’s Head. “I was actually hoping to speak to the bartender here,” he said mildly, “But he’s apparently closed up shop.”

Audrey was still peering at him inquisitively. “Abe?” she asked. “Oh, old Abe said he’d be taking a vacation for a year. He’ll be back sometime in March, I think.”

“You know the… er… bartender?” Harry asked.

“Of course,” Audrey replied, “He’s my landlord.”

“Right,” Harry said, completely taken aback by the notion of Aberforth Dumbledore owning property. _Then again, he did own a bar_.

“Care to walk me home, Harry?” she asked.

Harry looked around, puzzled. “You live here?” he asked.

Audrey nodded. She clutched her jacket tighter around herself and said, “Just beyond the new WWW branch.”

“Of course,” Harry said. He walked alongside her as they made their way to her home.

“So,” she said conversationally as they walked past the milling crowd of Hogwarts students. Harry saw quite a few boys _staring_ at Audrey as she walked past, but never _quite_ whistling or making weird comments at her. Harry supposed she gave off this sense of forbidden beauty – like she was a fruit _no one_ could _dare_ touch. Not unlike Fleur when Harry had first met her.

“So,” he replied.

Audrey giggled again. It was _very_ incongruous with her normal haughty personality and Harry was a bit taken aback.

“Dueling isn’t really my thing,” she said, “But I’ve been watching the Hogwarts matches. They’ve been… interesting. Congratulations for making it through the Round of Sixteen.”

Harry shrugged.

Audrey continued, “It was _very_ impressive – you putting down that Durmstrang girl in fifteen seconds. But so… anti-climactic.”

“So I’ve heard,” Harry muttered.

Audrey turned to look at him and Harry noticed how her skin seemed to _gleam_ in the sunlight. Blood pounded in his ears with renewed will. _Take her. Use her. Satisfy us._

 _Dammit_ , Harry thought, _here we go again_.

“When I do shoots… you know… modeling,” she said, “They usually tell me to model an outfit or _this_ dress or _that_ suit. Or _this_ skirt. And I’ve often been told by my photographer that I’m the _best_ model he’s shot with. Do you know why?”

Through the haze of lust that was taking him, Harry looked at her, intrigued. He hadn’t _quite_ expected the conversation to go in this direction.

“Because where other models pose _functionally_ , I pose for _me_.”

Despite himself, Harry was puzzled. “I’m not sure I understand,” he said.

“If asked to model an outfit, what would _you_ do?” she asked rhetorically and then continued, “I think you’d wear it and then pose before the camera. The photographer will tell you to turn this way, and then _that_ way, so that the light frames the clothes at just the right angle. But it’s _fake_ – there’s no _art_ to it. You might as well throw the clothes onto a dummy and photograph the dummy.

“The reason I’m considered _the_ go-to supermodel in the Wizarding World, is because I don’t just _wear_ the clothes and _pose_. I _flaunt_ them. I turn, I dance, I _flirt_ with the camera. And that is what makes _me_ so effective.”

Harry had to admire her pride in her work – she was almost _arrogant_. There was nary a doubt in her voice as she told him about herself. At the same time, he could see that she had a point.

“So,” he said, “You think I should let the duel drag for a bit, just to show off?”

Audrey looked askance at him. “Don’t think of it as _showing_ off, Harry. Think of it as _performance art_. For the crowd.”

Harry grinned. “I guess that’s what Artois does, eh?” he asked.

“Indeed,” Audrey said, “The Frenchman isn’t anywhere _near_ as good as you are – that’s obvious to any discerning witch or wizard - but he makes up for it with showmanship and the ladies swoon over him. If you’re in this duel for the experience, sure, go ahead with your current thing. But if you’re in this duel for a bit _more_ – the applause, the blood rushing through your ears as the crowd roars in tune with your every move – you have to weave a _story_ with your wand. There has to be a start, a middle and a climactic finish. Not just one wave of the wand and an anti-climactic end where you disarm your opponent in a single move.”

Harry was surprised – the woman was _astute_. Of course, there was blood rushing through _his_ ears now, screaming at him to _pound_ her into dust.

“Oh,” Audrey said suddenly, “We’re here.” She looked at Harry, her eyes warm. “Care to come in?”

 _Great_ , Harry thought. “Of course,” Harry said, and his smile turned predatory.

***

Harry and Audrey were sitting at the dining table in Audrey’s flat and were sipping tea that Harry had helpfully prepared for both of them using the ingredients in her kitchen – of course, Harry was hoping to distract himself from his close proximate to a _gorgeous_ supermodel, but the tea turned out decent enough.

Audrey sipped at her tea and then gave a sigh of approval. “Your tea is _heavenly_ , Harry,” she said.

“Thank you,” Harry replied, though he would rather _not_ get complimented on talents the Dursleys had taught him. He switched topics. “So, how’s Percy these days? I hear he’s Junior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic now.”

Audrey’s expression turned blank. “Yes,” she said, “He’s quite happy these days.”

Then she bit her lip and looked right at Harry, her expression troubled.

“Something on your mind, Audrey?” Harry asked, “There’s a reason you asked me to step in, isn’t there?”

“I…” she said, and trailed off. She took a deep breath and said, “Wearehavingproblemsinbed.”

Harry blinked. “I… I’m afraid I didn’t quite catch that, Audrey.”

She sighed. “Percy and I,” she said as she bent her head down to look at her lap, her face flushed red, “We’re… having problems. In bed.”

Harry suddenly felt his blood rush to his groin. His head swam and his vision turned red and then back again. Feral instincts surged through his veins, and his persona – so intricately held together – crashed into pieces, forging anew with bestial links urging him to move the conversation forward.

Harry kept his face utterly blank through it all. _Blood and lust_ , the Elder Wand whispered, _that is all_.

“I see,” he said, and Audrey shivered as his voice changed its timbre. The temperature in the room rose and the very _air_ seemed to be tingling with magic.

“So,” Harry persisted, “Why are you telling me this, Audrey?”

Audrey stuttered, “Percy… h-he was intrigued by what… F-F-Fleur said at the Easter P-p-party.”

“Fleur told you,” Harry said, his voice barely above a whisper, “About me?”

Audrey nodded shakily – she was unnerved at how fast the mood was changing and her emotions were heaving back and forth.

“So… h-he wanted me to c-c-c-come to you,” she finished.

“To learn?” Harry asked.

Audrey nodded quickly, still staring down at her lap.

“But what do _you_ want?” Harry queried.

She peered up at him, her blonde hair falling over her face. “At first… I was taken aback,” she told him, her voice still shaking, “But… but… now…”

She took another deep breath, brushed her hair back and said, in a very formal voice. “I just wanted you to show me, at your convenience…”

“Wait,” Harry interrupted, “This is a bit _unreal_. There are self-help books on how to deal with this sort of thing. Why come to _me_? A complete stranger?”

“Because, in Percy’s words… you seem to be in the loop. He knows about… Molly. And Fleur. And Angelina called me a few weeks ago…”

“So Percy knows about Angelina too?”

“No,” Audrey said, “But I do.”

“So,” Harry asked, “Exactly _what_ have you been having problems with?”

“I… I…” Audrey stammered.

“Ha,” Harry said, “I knew it. Your husband just wants to see you fuck another man.”

Audrey gulped.

“It’s okay, Audrey,” Harry said in conciliatory fashion, “I’m not going to judge Percy for his… fetish.”

 _Of course,_ Harry thought, _Percy’s still a moron._

“So…” Audrey asked, “You accept?”

Harry just grinned at her, leaning back in his chair.

Audrey blushed. “So… I just need to… we need to decide on a place and time, and Percy and I…”

Harry interrupted. “How about here,” he asked, “And _now_?”

Audrey stared at him. “I… this… Percy,” she stuttered.

“Forget about Percy,” Harry said nonchalantly, “Let’s get started now. We can always do this in front of your husband later.”

And then he _leapt_ from his chair and crossed over to Audrey. She stood up with a start and tried to back away, keeping her chair between her and Harry, but he just _pushed_ it aside. The chair smashed to the ground and Harry was suddenly pressing up against Audrey – she was at least a head taller than him, but his movement had caused her to back into the table; her back was arched and they were now eye to eye.

“Harry,” she breathed, her eyes never leaving his own, “I… I’m not sure this… is okay…”

Harry just grinned at her and whispered, “Just let go, Audrey.”

***

Audrey shrieked as Harry grabbed her shoulders and turned her around. He pushed at her back, bending her right over the table, with her rear right against his abdomen. Audrey half-heartedly tried to push him off, but Harry pinned both her arms to the table, with his upper torso bent over her own back. He pushed back and forth slowly, and Audrey felt something _enormous_ rub against her arse.

“No,” she gasped, even as she felt herself grown _very_ wet.

She was mortified. He had caught her bluff – Percy _did_ want to see her with Harry, but she did not want to just come out and _say_ it to the most famous wizard of her generation. And she _had_ been taken aback at first – she did not even think Harry would accept it – but then, as the weeks went by, she had been more and more turned on by the fact that she would be sleeping with the Savior of the Wizarding World himself.

Harry slowly slid down her body and his hands came off her own. Audrey tried to lift them off the table, but they had apparently been spelled – they were glued to the table. Audrey rose off the table nonetheless and looked over her shoulder at Harry. He was now on his knees and he’d taken his shirt off. His muscled body gleamed in the light of the room and Audrey felt her mouth go dry at the sight.

His hands were now slowly feeling up her legs. They slid up her bare calves, to the back of her knees. Harry kissed the crook behind her left knee and Audrey felt something warm and tingly spread across her skin. A moan escaped her mouth. Harry grinned up at her and Audrey blushed.

“Enjoying this, are we?” he asked.

“I… no… I…” Audrey stammered.

His hands kneaded up her thighs, squeezing and massaging the flesh. “You have _gorgeous_ legs,” Harry said.

And then Audrey let out an _“eep”_ as she felt Harry’s hands on her ass, feeling all over it. His fingers pressed right into the soft flesh of her cheeks and he squeezed them firmly.

“Harry, no… please…” Audrey whispered.

Harry just looked up and grinned at her as he _lifted_ her dress right over her arse. He _pulled_ her panties down and Audrey squealed as she felt cool air rush across her now naked genitals. She felt goosebumps traverse her arse.

Harry slapped both hands on her asscheeks and _shook_ them, squeezing into them again. She shrieked.

“Ye gods!” he said happily, palpitating her ass with his hands, “Your ass is _deceptively_ big! You _look_ thin and slender, but pull your dress up and these magical jiggling cheeks pop out. They’re _wonderful_.”

Audrey felt her arousal grow as she felt her ass cheeks slap against each other – she was being _mauled_ by Harry’s strong hands.

And then he _dove_ in. He buried his face right in between her ass cheeks and started shaking his head rapidly, wobbling her asscheeks back and forth as he _licked_ all over the place.

“ _Harry!_ ” Audrey half-squealed half-moaned and her eyes closed in pleasure. She gasped and leaned on the table for support, her face now looking straight ahead.

Harry was still kneading and pulling her ass as he licked all around her crack. And Audrey moaned, “Harry! It’s _dirty_!”

Harry _slurped_ and rose off. “Not quite,” he said, “I _scourgified_ it.”

 _When?_ Audrey thought helplessly.

And she felt Harry’s fat tongue licking _down_ her ass. She felt his tongue go rigid as it _poked_ into her starfish.

“Harry…” Audrey gasped, “No one’s ever…”

“Done this to you before?” Harry completed, raising his head away from her ass. Then he dove back in again.

Her _hole_ started opening up and relaxing as Harry’s tongue repeatedly dove _in_ and _out_. He _licked_ and _lapped_ at it like it was made of honey. Gasps and moans tumbled out of Audrey as she lay right on the table, helpless and pinned down.

Then, his tongue trailed down again. Down the curve of her ass, lapping at her cheeks hungrily as he slid down across her…

“ _MERLIN_ ,” Audrey squealed as she felt him licking around her pussy lips. She was _very_ wet.

“Merlin, indeed,” Harry said, and she moaned as Harry’s tongue drew away from her lips, “You’re _soaking_ wet. You sure you’re not into this?”

“I… I’m not… I don’t…” but Audrey was unable to complete her sentence as she felt Harry’s face between her thighs again as he traced her lower lips with his tongue.

And then he was not licking _around_ her slit, but _along_ the opening – long languid licks that traced down and then _slid_ up, pushing up her clitoral hood as he lapped right at her _nub_ with his nose in her ass.

Audrey tried _really_ hard not to compare him with Percy, but a small, nasty voice at the back of her head told her that her fiancé did not even come close to _this_. Harry’s tongue actually _vibrated_ as he licked along her clitoris, drawing out loud moans from her mouth as her clit quivered over Harry’s thirsty tongue.

Then Harry was _in_. Her lips parted to give way to his tongue as it delved _deep_ into her, circling and twisting like a hungry _snake_ , licking and touching places his tongue shouldn’t have been able to _reach_. And even as his tongue _twisted_ inside her, making her pussy _gush_ , his lips encircled her vaginal opening, mashing against them skilfully. His hands were still playing with her ass, mauling them for all he was worth, leaving her cheeks red with the force of his kneading. Audrey’s legs trembled.

And that was when his tongue started _vibrating_. Audrey _shrieked_. “NNNNOOOOOOOO!” she screamed shrilly as her pussy _fluttered_ around his tongue, trying to _milk_ it and her body seized up and shuddered as she came violently. Juices gushed down his tongue and into his mouth as she seized up in the throes of pleasure.

Harry drew off her cunt and stood up as Audrey thrashed on the table and her legs trembled as they struggled to hold her up. She shuddered and twisted for nearly a minute, before her spasms began to die down.

“H-how did… what…” she said confusedly, as she lay with her upper torso entirely on the table.

She felt something _hard_ poking into her asshole. She rose up shakily and moaned as she looked around to see Harry extending his forefinger right into her ass.

But that was not what caught her attention. What _really_ alarmed her was the _enormous_ dome that was currently spooning her cunt lips. Harry was naked from the waist down and she could see his… _thing_ now. It was _monstrous_. She could see an enormous cylindrical _thing_ extending out from Harry’s midriff, veined and bestial, with the barest bristles of hair around its base. It was _enormous_. And it seemed to extend out from his body for ever, and vanished between her thighs, pushing under her ass.

Her soaked pussy lips parted as Harry _pushed_ in, his crown popping past her lips into her tight canal.

“Harry!” she shrieked, “SO NNNGGGGGGHHH… BIG!”

With dazed eyes, Audrey saw Harry’s shaft sink in, inch by inch, _pushing_ her apart _ever_ so pleasantly as his monstrous penis _crawled_ and _stuffed_ its way into her vagina. Audrey gasped and moaned as her pussy _stretched_ around his cock – she hadn’t felt _anything_ like this before.

And Audrey squealed again as she felt her _cervix_ being _pushed_ by Harry’s cock. She just stared at Harry, wide-eyed as her cervix _bumped_ up and just _continued_ to be hemmed in his enormous cockhead. He was practically in her _womb_ now.

After several seconds filled with pleasure, she dimly realized that Harry’s midriff was now right on her ass, her asscheeks yielding against his muscled abs.

Her insides were _stretched_.

“Your cunt feels so… _hot_ … on my cock,” Harry said happily.

Audrey just stared at him, wide-eyed. Harry was grinning and his face was _soaked_ – Audrey realized she had _gushed_ all over his face and blushed. With a start, she realized that her jacket was off and that her hands were no longer glued to the table – all she was wearing now was her sheath that was bunched up around her ass. _How does he do that?_ She thought. But she wasn’t even _thinking_ of protesting now.

“Please,” she moaned.

“Please… what?” Harry asked, “Please go away and come back when Percy’s around?”

Audrey’s blush turned an even deeper shade of red. “Please… _fuck_ … me,” she said bravely.

And Harry _pulled_. Audrey moaned as her cervix snapped back in and her vagina seemed to tighten back up as Harry’s immense girth withdrew, leaving her feeling _empty_. And then, just as his cockhead _ground_ against her G-spot, he _slammed_ back in.

Audrey shrieked as Harry’s _speared_ his length right back into her pussy smoothly – she was _gushing_ at this point – and _bashed_ into her cervix. And then Harry repeated the motion. He _pulled_ and _slammed_ again, drawing out another shriek.

And then he built up a rhythm. Audrey’s shrieks turned into one continuous scream as Harry _bashed_ at her insides repeatedly, spearing her at will, and _grinding_ her pussy into _mush_.

 _Percy was never like this_ , the same nasty voice whispered in her head as Audrey screamed out her pleasure to the high heavens, holding onto her dining table for dear life as Harry _pounded_ back and forth.

And then something _else_ burst. Dimly, Audrey realized that Harry was now fingering her _ass_ with his forefinger while fucking her cunt silly.

“You like that, Audrey?” Harry asked, “You like my finger in your ass and my cock in your juicy cunt?”

Audrey _tried_ to protest, _tried_ to say that she hadn’t had _anything_ shoved up there before… but all she could do was scream the first letter of her refusal, “NNNNNNNNNNNNNN!”

Her cunt started fluttering all over again and Audrey shouted, “CUMMMMMMIIIIINNNNNNGGG!”

Harry was relentless though – he kept spearing back and forth even as her pussy fluttered around his marauding cock and her juices sprayed all over the place. She was screaming on the table now, her fingernails scratching away at the lacquered wood as her body shuddered violently.

“You’re _soaking_ my _cock_ ,” Harry gloated.

And then he _withdrew_ completely, _popping_ out of her cunt – his fingers were out of her arse too - and Audrey’s scream petered out into a confused moan. Mercilessly, Harry manhandled her as he turned her over onto her back. Audrey spasmed and twitched as she looked confusedly into Harry’s eyes.

And then she felt his massive cockhead _push_ at her quivering vaginal lips again. “ _Pleassssse_ ,” Audrey hissed – she _wanted_ him _in_ her again. She wanted to feel that massive _thing_ inside of her, _using_ her and making her _scream_.

Instead, Harry curled a fist around his cock and started _shaking_ it, _pushing_ her lips this way and that, as his head mashed into her clitoris.

“NO!” Audrey shrieked as her orgasm just seemed to go on and _on_. “SENSITIVE!”

And then, Harry withdrew and _slapped_ his hand down on her cunt and Audrey squealed. He _pushed_ two fingers inside, curled them up and started _pushing_ back and forth, right against her…

 _“NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”_ Audrey screamed, as her orgasm picked up its second wind and struck with renewed vigor, “BASTARD!”

Her pussy _sloshed_ as her pushed and scraped against her g-spot with powerful fingers, _fucking_ her up and down with his hand.

 _It’s a good thing I’m lying on the table now_ , Audrey thought as her body flailed around helplessly with the force of her orgasm. Her legs felt _useless_ as they thrashed around Harry’s hips.

His fingers withdrew, soaked with her juices, and then _pushed_ into her rectum – her asshole, which had been slightly loosened up from his probing earlier, now snuggled around his forefinger and middle finger as he _slammed_ them back and forth, pushing her legs up around his shoulders. Audrey’s spasms were dying down and her body was slowly returning back to her control.

But Harry was apparently having none of that. He _pulled_ back, still fingering her ass from below as he _pushed_ his cock right back into her tunnel.

Audrey _moaned_. “You _utter_ bastard,” she panted as her orgasm threatened to build up again.

And Harry _thrust_ forward again, _spearing_ her insides as he built up another rhythm, hammering her vagina with rapid, short thrusts.

Audrey just had time for a sarcastic, _Great_. And then her mind went blank again as her vision blurred and _yet_ another orgasm – or perhaps the _same_ orgasm, going on forever – _rocked_ her body. _Again_.

“FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME FUUUUCCCCKKK MEEEEEE!” she screamed stupidly as Harry _pulverized_ her twat with his meat. Her _toes_ were curling now, and she felt spasms rock her entire body – up her her _scalp_ as the world burst into myriad colors, searing across her eyes.

After what felt like _hours_ of thrusting to Audrey (but was probably only _minutes_ ), Harry withdrew again.

Audrey felt like she was on a muggle roller coaster – crescendo upon crescendo of intense emotion, followed by short, deceptively quiet moments of pleasure. She was _panting_ on the table now with her eyes screwed shut in pleasure. Dimly, she realized that his fingers were still _sawing_ between her asscheeks and she moaned. It was like he was _using_ her body like a sex puppet, pushing her around as if she was dangling by strings.

Before she even realized it, he had pushed her across the table. Her face was now right near the edge of the table. She _felt_ rather than saw Harry make his way around the table so that he was right in her field of vision.

And Harry’s massive cock slapped onto her left cheek – her head was turned sideways so that her right cheek was _on_ the table. His slimy cock rolled all over her face, lathering her with her own pussy juices. Audrey moaned and breathed in deeply – it smelt _amazing_ to her.

But then, his cockhead _pushed_ insistently at her lips and Audrey realized what he wanted. Her eyes – closed up to this point – opened with a start and her vision was practically _filled_ with Harry’s enormous shaft. Her eyes crossed and she whimpered as she saw Harry’s massive crown _push_ at her lips.

“Suck it,” he ordered.

Audrey turned her face away reflexively, away from Harry’s cock. She had _never_ done this before. She had only been with three men so far, excluding Harry – and she had _never_ done this for them. She had never been _inclined_ to.

 _No_ , Audrey thought, _I’m not going to do stuff with Harry that I’ve not even done for my fiancé._

 _Ah_ , another voice whispered at the back of her mind, _But it smells so nice._

And Harry chose that moment to slap his cock onto her _right_ cheek and just let it _lay_ there.

“C’mon, Audrey,” Harry said, “Where’s your sense of _adventure_?”

 _No,_ Audrey thought, trying not to turn around and give his juicy-looking man-meat a short lick, _It does smell nice… but no_.

 _Why not,_ the other voice asked.

 _Because_ _it’s not my… thing._

_Why not?_

Harry was now slapping his cock back and forth onto her right cheek.

“Fine,” Audrey gasped suddenly, “I… uh… I’ll kiss it.”

“Kiss?” Harry asked, but his voice was amused.

“One… short… kiss,” Audrey said.

There was a pause. Then, Harry said, “Agreed. Unless you want it to go further.”

Audrey tentatively turned her face around and her vision was filled with his massive cockhead again. It was _soaked_ with her own juices, mixed with his pre-cum and it _glistened_ juicily before her.

She puckered her lips into a kiss and Harry _pushed_ his dome up at her lips. She breathed in the pleasant scent, and her tongue _flickered_ out, _licking_ briefly at his cock.

“Looks like you want more,” Harry said casually and _pushed_.

“NNNNFFFFFF!” Audrey tried to protest, but her mouth opened despite herself and _stretched_ around Harry’s marauding crown.

She _glared_ up at him as his cockhead burst into her mouth, even as her tongue frantically tried to lick desperate circles around his dome, and Harry had the _nerve_ to grin back at her.

 _Bastard,_ she thought, as she slurped noisily at his shaft.

“So… your juices taste good Audrey?”

“NNNFFF… BNFFFF BNNFFFF!” Audrey screamed as she kept licking around his penis. _Bastard_ , she thought again, _stupid bastard with his big fat tasty cock_.

And then Harry let go and drew all the way out of her mouth. Startled, she grabbed hold of his cock before he could pull out of reach.

“I thought you didn’t like my cock in your mouth?” Harry asked.

“Fuck you,” Audrey snarled, _tugging_ at his penis.

“You want it back in?” Harry asked. Audrey kept tugging, trying to pull his cockhead closer to her lips.

“YES!” she screamed. She didn’t know if she was _angry_ at herself or _aroused_ , but she wanted more of that taste.

Then she opened her mouth as wide as it would go and gave another mighty _tug_ on his cock. Harry obliged and shoved right back in. Only, he didn’t stop once his head was in; he _pushed_ so that his crown burst into her _throat_ and she _gagged_.

She choked and munched and slobbered all over his cock to the best of her ability as he hammered back and forth into her mouth like it was her pussy. And she couldn’t stop trying to _taste_ every inch she could reach – she _needed_ this. She _wanted_ this. She wanted to lick at his fat cock like it was a lollipop for _ever_ and ever. She wanted to choke on his cock for the cover of _Playwizard_.

And then, after several minutes of working her mouth, until her throat felt like it was on fire, Harry withdrew, leaving Audrey panting numbly on the table.

Suddenly, his hands were all over her body, turning her over and _pulling_ her towards the edge of the table again. Her legs dangled over and touched the floor – she was in the same position she had been when he had pinned her palms to the table at the beginning of this _terrific_ encounter.

“You think you can just push around the Witch of the Year, Harry?” she panted.

“Oh, I’m going to do a _lot_ more than push you around,” Harry said mildly.

And then she something _far_ more enormous than fingers poke at her puckered rosebud.

She tensed, and then _relaxed_. She was beyond protest now – she _wanted_ him in there now. He had pushed her around like a common street whore and been the first man to _ever_ enter her mouth. The _first_ to make her feel like this, the first to make her have orgasm after orgasm… she needed him to take _everything_ now.

She wriggled her ass as Harry squeezed her cheeks and _pulled_ them apart – she felt cool breeze hit her asshole, which had loosened up due to Harry’s fingering earlier.

“God, this ass is _gorgeous_ ,” Harry said harshly as he _pushed_. His dome _pressed_ against her snug bumhole, prising apart her rectal walls as he slowly _stuffed_ into her.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she moaned.

Then he stopped.

***

Harry watched his cock _stretch_ Audrey’s ass apart with its girth – his cock was well-lubricated with Audrey’s juices and spit, not to mention his own pre-cum – and her walls _hugged_ his crown like nothing had before. The blood rushed through his ears and he _wanted_ to conquer this. He _wanted_ to let go.

But he _couldn’t_. He had _never_ had anal sex before – and…

_Look at that amazing arse, just fuck it. Fuck it. Use her dumper. Just take her where she’s never been taken before._

But there was another _voice_ at the back of his head – a voice that told him this was _not_ how he wanted this to go. Only, he did not quite hear words so much as a loud, blaring _noise_. A rush of wind, a powerful quiver of his very soul.

 _No_.

Harry withdrew and _slammed_ his cock into Audrey’s twat again. “NO!” he roared. _Not like this_.

His thrusts were now savage, feral, bestial – no longer a systematic rhythm so much as a rough, pounding motion that was irregular, slowing down, speeding up, _fucking_ and _fucking_ and _fucking_.

And Audrey’s walls were spasming around his shaft again, her quim gushed around his cock and Audrey screamed as she clawed at the table in _pleasure_. And the _pain_. And then _pleasure_. Over and over, pushing her beyond ecstasy, beyond relief, beyond _tolerance_.

Harry knew, at the back of his mind, that he had just disobeyed an urge from the Elder Wand. And it had struck back with vengeance. He was _roaring_ to the room now, hammering savagely at Audrey’s tight quim and the Elder Wand _wanted_ its pound of flesh.

Magic _swirled_ around him, pulsing angrily and Harry just slammed away, lost to the world, his mind a _vision_ of red.

He _slammed_ and _thrust_ and _destroyed_. Her walls fluttered at an incredible frequency, spasmodically clenching at his fat cock, surrendering meekly to his length and girth.

“PLEASE!” Audrey screamed, “CANNOT! TAKE! MORE!”

He didn’t care. He did not _want_ to care. He did not think he was _capable_ of care, or love, or _any_ human emotion. He was a _beast_ , _taking_ for himself. _Rutting_. _Fucking_. _Copulating_.

***

Audrey had no idea how much time had passed since Harry had started slamming away _brutally_ into her vagina. His _roar_ filled her ears even as his enormous penis filled her cunt, and _slammed_ into her womb. There was no rhythm here, no measured thrusts… just ridiculously rapid movements that reduced her to jelly.

She was _beyond_ orgasm now – or perhaps her orgasm had just gone on for so long that _bliss_ became a state of mind. The world _rushed_ around her, colors flashing across her field of vision – she was being melted, sculpted and re-forged by a _demon_ , her vagina molding itself to the shape of his cock. She had long since ceased to be – she had ascended a plane of existence where there was absolutely nothing apart from _this_ … beyond pleasure, beyond pain.

Her world went black and then _burst_ into color again. Audrey drifted in and out of consciousness, waking up to balls slapping against her ass and a cock spearing into her cunt, and then falling into the bliss of oblivion again.

She screamed for help, for him to stop, for him to make her _cum_ , for him to make her _scream_ … but this demon did not have ears. It seemed to have no senses save for one – an _urge_ to pulverize and _conquer_ her insides ten times over.

And eventually, after an eternity of _fucking_ , of _savagery_ , of _pleasure_ , of _pain_ , Audrey dimly registered the fact that Harry had just _bashed_ into her cervix and _stayed_ there. Pulsing, recoiling, _shooting_. Hot semen filled her womb and _splashed_ all over her inner walls, sloshing out of her pussy in streams along with her own rivers of cum.

And then Audrey fainted.

***

The blood pounding in his ears slowly receded, and Harry’s vision cleared. The feelings of lust, of _thirst_ , of retribution… had been quenched. And that was when the full force of what he had just done hit Harry. He just stood there, in utter bewilderment, looking at an absolutely _drenched_ Audrey Weasley. Her body was covered in sweat and the table was absolutely covered in her fluids. She was entirely comatose and her gaping cunt was _leaking_ his semen onto the floor.

 _Crap_ , Harry thought morosely, _it happened again_.

He had completely lost control of himself. The last time he had lost control of himself was when he had had sex with Fleur and Gabrielle – _then_ , he had let the Elder Wand just take control and held on for the ride. _This_ time, however, he had _refused_ to listen to his wand, and had paid the price for his disobedience – he had lost _all_ sense of decorum and humanity and had pounded Audrey into a simpering mess.

With a start, he realized that it was pitch black outside – he must have been at it for at least two hours.

 _Enough_ , Harry thought firmly, _it’s time I learned how to control this_.

And then he remembered he had an appointment with Hagrid. He needed to get away from Audrey – he needed the comfort of Hagrid’s company, despite the half-giant’s obliviousness.

Harry floated Audrey over from the dining table to the bed, cleaned her with a spell, and covered her in her sheets. He prepared a bowl of water and orange juice for when she woke up and placed them on her bedside table. He brushed her hair out of her eyes, looking at her serene face for a minute, before he turned to leave.

But a voice stopped him. “Harry?” Audrey’s voice wafted over.

He sighed and turned around. “Hey Audrey,” he said, looking at her again.

She looked bewildered for a moment, then seemed to realize what had happened. She blushed. “I fainted, didn’t I?” she asked.

“Audrey,” Harry said, “I’m sorry. I should’ve been more… gentle. I just…”

Audrey interrupted. “Harry,” she said fervently, “That. Was. _Awesome_. And you can always be gentle the next time around.”

“Next time, eh?” Harry asked.

Her blush still strong on her face, Audrey whispered, “Yeah.”

“I see,” Harry said quietly.

Audrey put her head back onto the pillow and stared up at the ceiling, her face pink. “And next time,” she said, her voice firm, “You’re definitely taking my anal virginity.”

Harry just grinned at her, said goodbye and left the flat. She mumbled goodbye sleepily and sank right back into her deep sleep again.

***

_Midnight, Sunday, Hogwarts_

Harry still felt a little guilty for _fleeing_ like that from Audrey’s place, but he had _needed_ to get away.

The talk with Hagrid the next day had done him good, in any case – they had perused memories of Dumbledore from Hagrid’s school years right up to Harry’s, all with the help of the Pensieve Hagrid had helpfully secured from McGonagall.

And it had been _very_ enlightening. Hagrid had assembled several memories of magical feats performed by Dumbledore – much _more_ than Harry had asked for, but he was thankful. He needed as wide a sample as possible to determine what he really wanted to know.

Why had Dumbledore not been affected by the Elder Wand’s aura? Why had it not influenced Dumbledore like it had influenced Harry? Was he particularly susceptible? Or was Dumbledore so accomplished in the mental arts that he was not susceptible to the Elder Wand’s suggestions at all?

And he had found something astonishing within the memories. In every single one of them, right up to his great duel with Voldemort at the Ministry, Dumbledore had _always_ used _his_ wand. The Elder Wand _never_ seemed to be on hand.

Of course, Harry surmised Dumbledore could have just kept the Elder Wand hidden just as Harry did and alternated between his original wand and the Deathstick.

But something seemed… off. One thing was clear though – Harry needed to find out more about how Dumbledore had _not_ succumbed to the Elder Wand’s lure. And if he _had_ succumbed, Harry needed to find out how he kept it hidden from the world.

However, this time around, he needed to speak to someone who _really_ knew Dumbledore – who knew Dumbledore’s flaws and would be able to point them out to Harry. Who could single out how Dumbledore had _changed_ , _if_ he had changed.

He needed to bide his time and wait for Aberforth to return. Hopefully, Harry would be able to maintain some semblance of control in the meantime.

In any case, the quarterfinals for the Contest of Wands were coming up soon.

***


	11. Investigator

_Christmas Day, Forbidden Forest_

Harry took a deep breath and surveyed the Forbidden Forest, peering warily into its depths. It was still early in the morning, and dawn had barely begun. The looming silhouette of the forest struck a majestic shadow against the unusually fiery morning sky.

Harry sighed. He had put this off as long as possible, but he could not make excuses any longer. As the days went by, he found it harder and harder to maintain a control on the Elder Wand – so much so that he absolutely refused to go back to the Burrow with the Weasleys. Of course, Ginny had not been happy about that.

She had been annoyed throughout the last day of the winter term – Harry had received offers from every single one of his friends at Hogwarts to stay with them for Christmas; the problem was, most of those friends were female. Astoria had invited him to Greengrass Manor, Nandini had asked him accompany her during a family visit to India, Demelza had hinted at going to the Quidditch World Cup in Timbuktu and Gabrielle had just flat out asked him to go with her to France. Even Luna had asked him if he wanted to come over to the Lovegoods’ when staying at the Burrow. And Hermione had surreptitiously asked him if he wanted to accompany her on a vacation with her parents – apparently, they were going to the United States that year.

Moreover, all of the offers _had_ been salacious – the girls had all had a gleam in their eyes and a saucy grin on their faces when they had asked him. And Ginny was _very_ annoyed at that – strangely though (or perhaps predictably), she had seemed least threatened by Gabrielle’s offer of going to France. Apparently, his girlfriend was slowly coming to terms with Gabrielle’s presence in their relationship.

Either way, Harry had rejected _all_ of them. He had been too complacent and had put off his concerns about the Elder Wand for too long – the encounter with Audrey had proved that. He did _not_ want to be a tool for _his_ magical artefact, he wanted the _artefact_ to be his tool.

And the winter vacations were convenient for the next step in his quest for control. Every single student at Hogwarts that year, except for him, had apparently signed on to go back home for the vacations. Harry turned out to be the only student actually staying back at Hogwarts that year – and that was very fortuitous for him, because it meant there were very few eyes watching him now. He supposed a war could do that to people – they were all thankful for the fact that they had made it through the war safe and sound; they _craved_ familial attention. And the memory of the Battle of Hogwarts was too fresh in most parents’ minds.

And so, here Harry was, steeling himself for what he was about to do next.

In truth, it was the fact that he _wanted_ the artefact that was the main problem – the one thing that bothered him about his next step. Harry _knew_ what he was about to do went directly against the promise he had made to Dumbledore. Against the promise he had made to _himself_.

He wanted to summon the Resurrection Stone.

He had promised to leave the Resurrection Stone in the same place he had dropped it – lost forever to time. He _knew_ what it felt like to hold the stone in his hands and use it. The feeling of utter abandonment, of sorrow, of the perverse _pleasure_ of meeting your loved ones after death, whispers of the comforting embrace of death.

Of course, neither the Stone nor the Cloak were as powerful as the Wand when it came to mental suggestion. Where the Wand _pushed_ and _tugged_ at his brain, compelling him to act, the Cloak _influenced_ and _nudged_ , subtly advising him to remain under the radar. But the Stone was an entirely different cup of tea – it _whispered_ and _tempted_ , telling you of the wonders that await you beyond this life and of the glorious bliss of oblivion.

He shuddered at the memory of that last fateful march into the forest, surrounded by specters of his loved ones. He had actually been _happy_ then – almost morbidly joyful to meet his own demise.

And yet, he _needed_ that solution. He _needed_ to know how Dumbledore controlled the Wand. He _needed_ to ask his mentor how to go about using it.

“Accio,” Harry whispered, raising his wand towards the forest and concentrating on his memory of the stone – the shape of the stone, its texture, the _cold_ feeling of holding it in his hands and the veiled whispers of death.

Then, he waited.

***

_Christmas Day, The Burrow_

Ginny watched Hermione like a hawk from the corner of the breakfast table. The pretty brunette had arrived at the Burrow early that morning and had joined them for breakfast, waiting for Ron to make his way down. She supposed Hermione was here to give Ron his Christmas gift in person. But that was not what was plaguing her thoughts at that moment.

Gabrielle’s words on the train back from Hogwarts had wormed their way into her head and were stuck there. And she could not shake them off.

***

_A week ago, Hogwarts Express_

_Ginny hissed in surprise as she was pushed up against the wall inside the Prefects’ Carriage. She had just been tagging along with the rest of the Prefects on her way out when she was seized by her shoulders and pushed up against the wall right next to the door. She had been at the end of the group of prefects that had made her way outside the carriage and had not expected this sudden assault._

_And then the grip loosened and her attacker let go. Ginny pulled out her wand on reflex and looked around wildly. Suddenly, a figure appeared near the door inside the carriage, pulling off what looked like an invisibility cloak._

_“Gabrielle?” Ginny asked, bewildered, as she pocketed her wand in relief at the familiar sight of the blonde girl, “Where did you get that cloak? Is that Harry’s?”_

_Gabrielle smiled mischievously at Ginny as the half-veela pushed her against the wall again. Gabrielle drew close to her and Ginny tensed, expecting a kiss as usual – Gabrielle had never actually initiated something like this behind Harry’s back; the mischievous veela had always done this in front of Ginny’s boyfriend before. But Gabrielle did not quite kiss her. She just leaned in and hovered, her luscious lips just poised millimeters away from Ginny’s._

_Ginny looked down at Gabrielle’s lips, breathing heavily as she took in the sight of the half-veela’s perfect face and threw caution to the winds. She leaned right back in. Their lips met and they kissed. Gabrielle hugged Ginny and pressed the redhead into her, mashing their breasts together and teasing Ginny’s lips with her tongue. Ginny moaned into Gabrielle’s mouth._

_Then the half-veela drew off, leaving Ginny completely breathless. “Harry has an invisibility cloak?” Gabrielle asked, intrigued._

_Ginny nodded. She cupped Gabrielle’s ass, feeling the amazing curves with her small hands. She had wanted to do this forever, and she could not resist her attraction to Gabrielle anymore… not at such close proximity. Gabrielle grinned and leaned in again, nipping at Ginny’s chin and trailing soft kisses down her neck – it was eerily reminiscent of their first such encounter at the Weasleys’ Easter Party._

_“Yes,” Ginny moaned, “He does.”_

_“An actual Demiguise cloak?” Gabrielle asked, pausing her kisses for a moment, “Or one of those WWW products?”_

_Ginny shook her head, trying to snap out of her momentary daze – the half-veela’s kisses always had that effect on her. She saw Gabrielle’s cloak lying in the middle of the room – it was surprisingly furry and had an ornate hood, with runes stitched all over it._

_“Actually,” Ginny said, as she looked at Gabrielle’s cloak, “I have no idea. It looks nothing like your cloak.”_

_Gabrielle let go of her and looked Ginny in the eyes. The blonde then held out her wand and floated the cloak over. “Are you sure?” she asked, handing the cloak over to Ginny._

_Ginny slowly felt the texture of the cloth. It was definitely furry, almost like strands of linen sewn into a cotton base. But the most glaring feature of the cloak were the elaborate runic patterns along its hem. She traced her hand along one such runic scheme._

_“Yeah,” Ginny said, clearing her throat, “It doesn’t have a hood, for one. And these runes – I don’t think I’ve ever seen a rune on Harry’s cloak.”_

_“You cannot have a cloak without runes – they’re what make the cloak work properly,” Gabrielle said, crossing her arms._

_“Well, we can always take a look at the cloak when we get back – I’m sure Harry will let us take a look if we ask nicely,” Ginny said, handing the cloak back to Gabrielle._

_Gabrielle smiled. “You just referred to me and you as ‘we’”, she said._

_Ginny blushed. “I… er…,” she stammered._

_“Oh, don’t worry,” Gabrielle said, “I know you’re still making up your mind about all of this, but I can wait. Make your peace with it over the holidays – when we come back, I’ll be there, asking you the same question._

_“And then,” the half-veela continued with a glint in her eye, her eyes not wavering in the slightest as she caught Ginny’ chin and lifted it to face her, “You will say yes.”_

_Ginny nodded faintly._

_“But,” Gabrielle continued, “That is not why I called you here.”_

_Ginny looked at Gabrielle inquisitively._

_“I called you here to discuss Hermione,” Gabrielle said._

_Ginny sighed. “Look, Gabby,” she said, “I thought about what you said.”_

_Gabrielle opened her mouth to speak, but Ginny hushed her and continued, “You’re absolutely right… or rather, you would be absolutely right if Hermione was making a play for Harry. You’re right – that would be bad. But I don’t think she’s in love with Harry at all. If she is, why’s she still with Ron?”_

_Gabrielle just looked disapprovingly at Ginny and said, “I’m not asking you to second-guess who Hermione loves and who she does not love. All I’m asking you to do is to say ‘no’ to her the next time she asks if she can sleep with Harry. Or better yet, go to her right now and tell her she cannot sleep with Harry any more. Period.”_

_There was silence in the room as Ginny contemplated Gabrielle’s words._

_“Fine,” she said eventually, “I’ll tell her as soon as I can. That I’m putting my foot down.”_

_Gabrielle smiled and leaned in again. Ginny closed her eyes and sighed as she felt Gabrielle’s fingers hold her and caress her. Their lips met, and they kissed again._

***

_Christmas Day, The Burrow_

Part of Ginny was relieved that she was slowly coming to terms with the fact that Gabrielle would be joining the relationship soon – Gabrielle was on _her_ side. Moreover, Gabrielle was skilled, talented, beautiful and most importantly, dominant. She could take the initiative in their relationship and stay toe to toe with Harry... or at least, she could try and keep up with Harry. And that _was_ a relief – Ginny had always felt that she was really no match for Harry’s appetite and did not _deserve_ him, but with _Gabrielle_ on her side, she felt confident. It was almost like Gabrielle was turning into an older sister who could protect Ginny and _guide_ her with Harry. Which was ironic, because Gabrielle was actually a year younger than her.

And as the days went by, Ginny was quite convinced that Gabrielle was infinitely more preferable to someone like Hermione or say, Astoria – who was alarming her recently with her overt flirtations with Ginny’s boyfriend. Or even, Nandini. Because all three of those girls were utter _romantics_ , much like herself. Moreover, they did not seem to be willing to be in a relationship with _both_ Harry and her – they frequently tried to get Ginny out of the way in order to woo him like shameless little sluts. Apart from Gabrielle, not _one_ other girl had asked her if it was okay to invite Harry along for the Christmas holidays. Granted, Harry had not accepted, but it was still _galling_ that they would think her such a pushover.

But with Gabrielle on her side, all of those girls would soon learn to respect her… _them_. They would _never_ have been so open with their interest in Harry if it had been an angry half-veela at the other end.

***

_Christmas Day, The Forbidden Forest_

The stone felt smooth and hard in his hands as Harry turned it over. Once. Twice. And with shaking hands, _thrice_.

He could _feel_ it calling – whispers, like from beyond the Veil in the Department of Mysteries. _Calling_ to him. Promising him a better world. Free from worry, from disease, from the trappings of power. And he tried to ignore it all as he focused on his memories of Dumbledore.

A spectral figure rose up from the ground, _freezing_ the air around it. Harry stared as the figure continued to rise, his breath escaping in short spurts of mist from his nostrils. The spectral fog coalesced – color seemed to _flow_ through it, infusing it with _life_.

And there he was – with his majestic beard flowing in an ethereal wind, blue eyes blazing underneath half-moon spectacles – Albus Dumbledore.

Harry _quailed_ under his mentor’s gaze. Those blue eyes – which had often looked upon him with fondness, with pride, with happiness, with sorrow – were now _glaring_ at him in _disdain_.

It _hurt_. It hurt more than a _Cruciatus_ Curses. It hurt _much_ more than that. For the first time, Harry truly understood why this stone had driven Cadmus Peverell to despair. There was no worse feeling in the world than knowing that the person you once cherished in life hates you in death. His fingers felt numb and his body was heavy – with guilt, with grief and with self-loathing. The stone _whispered_ to him - his life was _pathetic_.

“Please,” Harry said, pleading with his Headmaster’s _soul_ , “I did not… I did not…”

He sank to his knees, but the stone never left his grasp. He was _kneeling_ at Dumbledore’s feet now, and he felt utterly unworthy.

“You _promised_ , Harry,” his former Headmaster said in a terrible, booming voice, “You _promised_ to leave this in the Forest.”

“I _needed_ your advice!” Harry exclaimed helplessly. But the figure showed no _hint_ of mercy or pity – there was only _disappointment_ in those eyes.

“I… I _own_ the Elder Wand,” Harry said in a rush, “I need to know how to break its spell!”

Dumbledore looked askance at him. “You _promised_ not to use that too,” his mentor boomed, “If you never use it, it never _exerts_ its spell.”

“You used it,” Harry said, “How did you _stop_ it? How did you stop it from controlling you?”

“I almost did not,” Dumbledore rasped, his voice echoing around the Forest, carried by an unseen wind, “Do _not_ use it.”

“I _did_ use it,” Harry said, his hands trembling in guilt and frustration, “I _had_ to.”

And he saw Dumbledore’s eyes narrow in utter _loathing_ as they _glared_ at Harry. He shrunk under his mentor’s stern gaze.

“Why?” the figure demanded.

“I _had_ to,” Harry repeated, “The wand would not have stayed hidden forever. _Please_! Tell me how to control it!”

And then the figure vanished.

“No,” Harry said in alarm, “No, no, NO!”

He turned the stone over frantically. Once, twice, thrice.

And a spectral figure rose again and reformed, breathing life into his former mentor. Again, those blazing eyes glared disapprovingly at him.

“Tell me how to control it!” Harry repeated, kneeling before the man like a disciple before a sage.

“Control _what_?” the figure asked with disdain.

“The Elder Wand!” Harry exclaimed, bewildered.

The figure glared at him again. “You _promised_ , Harry,” Dumbledore boomed.

“ _Please_!” Harry said, and the figure vanished again. Harry roared in frustration.

And continued to turn the stone over. Once. Twice. Thrice.

***

_Christmas Day, The Burrow_

“So, Hermione, how are things between you and Ron?” Ginny asked.

Hermione looked curiously at her and smiled. “That question sounded almost… _Lavender_ , Ginny. Since when have _you_ been the gossiping type?” she asked.

“Oh I’m not,” Ginny said casually, “I’m just curious. He might be a blight, but he _is_ my brother.”

Hermione giggled and Ginny smiled. “I’m kidding,” she told Hermione warmly, “Ron’s a great guy. I was just wondering how you two were settling into the next phase of your relationship.”

Hermione shrugged, as if to indicate there was not much to tell, but there was _something_ in her eyes that _spoke_ to Ginny. Something… weird. Hermione wasn’t telling her something.

Ginny was about to press her on the topic, when Ron came ambling down the stairs. Ginny sat back in her chair. Hermione greeted Ron ever so casually as he sat down – Ginny frowned when she noticed that the couple did not even share a kiss as they settled in.

Then, Ron leaned over and whispered something in Hermione’s ear. The bushy-haired girl smiled back at Ron, but her smile was… _wistful_. Almost… _sad_.

They ate their breakfast in silence, after which Ron and Hermione went for a walk outside. Ginny tried to follow them, but her mother asked her to help clean the dishes.

And when Ginny had finally managed to finish the chore and proceed outside, she saw Ron all by himself, sitting on the swing beneath a tree in the orchard. Hermione had long since departed.

 _Ah well,_ Ginny thought, _I can always talk to Hermione later._

***

_Christmas Day, Forbidden Forest_

Sunrise gave way to morning and morning turned to noon. Fiery skies had long since turned to murky grey with dark clouds looming threateningly above Harry as he tried frantically to get the stone to _work_.

Frustration. Rage. Sorrow. Guilt. All of these emotions seemed to work in tandem in Harry’s mind, pressing up against the ramparts of his mind and tearing them asunder, leaving him a teary-eyed mess right at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Time and again, he had called upon Dumbledore, only to despair at the sheer _rage_ on his mentor’s face, never getting an answer to his dilemma, but always quailing at the sight of Dumbledore’s terrible visage.

He was beginning to understand Cadmus’ despair. The dead truly did not belong in the land of the living. The stone had _one_ purpose – to _guide_ you to death. It showed you haunting images of the ones that you once loved, only to bring them crashing down as you worked towards closure, and then resurrect them anew, hoping to draw you off-guard again.

The stone did not help him commune with the dead, it made him want to _join_ them. The last time he had used the stone, he was going to die – only _then_ had the stone truly given him want he wanted, because he was doing what the _stone_ wanted. Marching to his own doom.

But now, he intended to _live_. And the stone did not care for the wishes of those that _wanted_ to live, it only cared to _taunt_ them and subvert their will.

“USELESS!” Harry roared helplessly as the stone eventually dropped from his nerveless fingers.

“You _have_ to understand,” he pleaded, sweating and shuddering, “You _have to understand, Albus!_ ”

This was _not_ how great, heroic stories were supposed to end. The wand was supposed to have remained hidden forever. The cloak was supposed to be his. And the stone was to be untouched forever. The villain had died, the hero had won and he had even snagged the girl.

And it was supposed to _end_ there. It was _supposed_ to. Because in stories, there were no repercussions. They _always_ lived happily ever after. Wars may have been fought, entire armies may have marched to their deaths, but the _hero_ was always supposed to be _happy_ at the end.

Every comic-book adventure of Martin Miggs the Muggle ended with Martin being laughed at by oh-so-clever wizards who looked upon Martin ever so condescendingly. And yet, come next episode, Martin was there again, in good health and spirits, ready to embark on _yet_ another zany misadventure only to be laughed at, again, by wizards.

Martin never suffered from depression, never had to go to a therapist to restore his self-esteem. He was always back with a bang, going from story to story, the same character. And it was the same with those old cartoons Harry used to watch from a dark corner of the Dursley household. He remembered one in particular – about a coyote that chased a roadrunner. And it always ended with the coyote suffering a really horrid death, but he was _always_ back the next time around, hatching yet another scheme to catch that pesky roadrunner.

That’s how stories were supposed to go – _free_ from consequence. Harry declining the wand’s power was the _perfect_ end to his story – it was an act of nobility and heroism. The perfect end to a long saga that spanned _years_ of his life.

But he was not a character in a story. This was real life, and actions _always_ had consequences here. Consequences that were not dictated by plot, like in the stories he loved, but by _chaos_.

And some consequences _really_ hurt. Like these terrible visions of the greatest wizard he had ever known – perhaps the _one_ defining influence of his life – looking at him in _anger_. In _disdain_.

That _really_ hurt.

Harry wiped the tears from his eyes forcefully, took a deep breath and jabbed his wand at the offending stone, _banishing_ it back to his trunk.

If he ever saw that damned stone again, it would be too soon.

Gingerly, he stood up and slowly made his way back to the dormitory.

***

_Christmas Feast, Hogwarts_

Harry snapped his book shut as the teachers shuffled into the Great Hall. All of the house tables had been abandoned in favor of the single staff table, seeing as how Harry was the only student in attendance at Hogwarts. The staff greeted him cheerfully – he had built up quite a rapport with them after being sequestered with them for the holidays.

“Good to see yeh, Harry!” Hagrid boomed as he plopped down in the seat next to him. Harry just grinned at the half-giant – he had helped out Hagrid and Professor Grubbly-Plank quite a bit over the last week. They had been looking for a stray troll that kept running over Hagrid’s pumpkin patch and they had eventually caught up with the creature a few days ago, managing to subdue it in seconds with Harry’s conjured chains.

Harry made small talk with Hagrid and Grubbly-Plank for a while, asking them about how they were going about ensuring that the troll did not disturb the pumpkin patch in the future. Eventually though, the entire staff had assembled at the dinner table and McGonagall signaled the start of the feast.

“Congratulations on making it through to the semi-finals, Mister Potter,” Slughorn said effusively, “That was quite an impressive win against that Beauxbatons wizard.”

Harry nodded at him. “Thank you, sir,” he said.

“All prepared for your semi-final match, Mister Potter?” Professor Flitwick asked. Harry nodded.

“I think it’s a bit unfair to the participants, Minerva,” Professor SInistra said from the far end of the table, “You shouldn’t have held the first matches so soon after the winter vacation.”

“I just wanted it to be over as soon as possible, Aurora,” the Headmistress rejoined. “I’d rather get the tournament out of the way before exam season starts.”

“I’m impressed by Mister Potter too,” Flitwick chimed in, “Just blows the competition away. No fancy moves, no absurd flourishes – just straightforward spells. Well _done_ , Mister Potter.”

Harry shrugged. Flitwick rubbed his chin and then looked around thoughtfully. “Although,” he said, “Miss Delacour seems to be causing quite a stir lately.”

Harry smiled at that. The half-veela’s heritage had eventually gotten out to the press after she breezed through the quarter-finals. And it had taken the media by storm – of course, they did not quite know _what_ to do with the news. But Harry _did_ know one thing – it had completely and utterly decimated any arguments for pureblood supremacy in the wizarding world.

For apart from Chiyo Yagami – his next opponent – no one that was part of the semi-finals was a pureblood. Moreover, the “pureblood” school that apparently taught Dark Arts – Durmstrang – had been entirely ousted from the tournament. Instead, the final four involved Harry, Hermione and Gabrielle – a half-blood, a muggleborn and a half-veela. That had surprised a _lot_ of people in the wizarding world.

But Gabrielle, in particular, was the subject that _really_ rocked antiquated ideas. At least the other participants were entirely _human_ – she was only _part_ human. And that had set off quite a lot of headlines. Gabrielle was now seen as _the_ face of the tournament and as a progressive face for the rights of magical creatures. Apparently, posters of Gabrielle had been plastered all over Gringotts and several veela colonies in France.

“Yes,” McGonagall said, “She has become quite a symbol for non-humans in our world, hasn’t she?”

“Indeed,” Flitwick said sincerely (and Harry supposed Flitwick would be _quite_ happy at that, with a bit of goblin blood in his line).

McGonagall nodded and rejoined, “Which is why I’m moving the duels from the Great Hall to the Quidditch Stadium.”

Harry gaped at her. “Ma’am?” he asked.

McGonagall smiled shrewdly at him. “I’m opening up the next few matches, Mister Potter,” she said, “I’m letting the public in. The Grounds shall be expanded to seat a crowd a thousand. Dignitaries, parents, students, media crews… they shall all be expected, and allowed, to turn up for the next few matches.”

“I see,” Harry said quietly. He did not _quite_ mind a crowd, but it _did_ place him on edge.

“What’s really encouraging though,” McGonagall continued, “Is that _quite_ a few goblins and veela have purchased tickets for the duels. The Grand Chieftain of Gringotts is expected to turn up. And so is the veela matriarch for the French colonies.”

Everyone looked impressed at that.

“And they’re all going to be watching Gabrielle,” Harry said with a grin, “That will _really_ ruffle the feathers of those old-fashioned purebloods.”

“Feathers that _need_ to be ruffled,” Flitwick said, grinning just as wide as Harry, “It’s about time.”

“But that’s amazing, is it not?” Mary MacDonald said from next to Slughorn, “We just fought a war against Voldemort – a pureblood supremacist – but it’s a half-veela getting into the penultimate round of a dueling tournament that _really_ pushes buttons.”

“No,” said Slughorn, “The war has _definitely_ affected the entire thing. It’s because the supremacists _lost_ the war that the media isn’t tearing Miss Delacour apart. In this atmosphere, pureblood supremacy is frowned upon and politically incorrect – it’s exactly why Miss Delacour’s achievement is getting so much traction.”

There was a pause as the meal appeared before them at that point and everyone started eating.

Eventually, Mary MacDonald looked at him curiously as Harry pushed aside the book that he had placed on the table and began to dig into his mashed potatoes. She smiled at him and sighed.

“You remind me of Lily,” she said softly, “Lugging a book around with you everywhere.”

Harry looked at her in surprise. “I realized you went to school in my mother’s time,” he said, “But I had no idea you personally… knew her.”

MacDonald had a distant look in her eyes as she answered, “I did know her. I was in her year. Shared a dorm with her.”

Slughorn nodded. “Indeed,” Slughorn said jovially, “Thick as thieves you two were.”

“Never quite matched up to Lily though,” MacDonald said, “She was… extraordinary. I just sort of orbited around in awe of her like a planet around its star.”

“Nonsense, Mary,” McGonagall said dismissively, “You’re a _very_ talented witch.”

MacDonald raised her hands and said defensively, “I _know_. At the same time, I know that in terms of skill and talent, Lily was _leagues_ ahead of me. Of _us_. All of us.”

Slughorn nodded. “While I’d hesitate to rank my students,” he said, “Lily was _indeed_ talented. Nonetheless, Mary, you _are_ selling yourself short.”

Harry listened with rapt attention – he had never really heard much about his mum before. Granted, everyone told him he had his mother’s eyes, and Petunia had much to say about his mother, but he had never heard anything about her like _this_.

“Sounds a bit like… Hermione,” he said in awe.

McGonagall frowned as she contemplated the notion. “No,” she said, “Not really. Miss Granger is different. She’s a bit _too_ headstrong, a bit _too_ disciplined. Their academic performance is comparable and so is their prodigious intellect; however, your mother had a _different_ spirit.”

“Yes,” MacDonald said, “While I’ve only known Miss Granger for a while, she strikes me as a… crusader. A headstrong woman that embraces a cause. Lily was never… that. She was a gentle, compassionate soul, but she was a bit of a pacifist.”

Harry grinned – it was interesting to hear his teachers compare Hermione to his mom. The conversation drifted after that, as his teachers made small talk with each other and Harry quietly continued to eat his meal.

And then he picked up something else. “… Dumbledore on the seventh floor,” McGonagall finished.

He snapped his head around. “What?” he breathed.

McGonagall, who had been talking to Professor Flitwick, turned around to look at him.

“Sorry,” Harry said, blushing, “I just heard something about Dumbledore… sorry, Professor.”

But McGonagall’s eyes were warm. “It’s okay Mister Potter,” she said, “I was just telling Filius here that the refurbishment of the Seventh Floor corridor is complete.”

“Ah,” Harry said. Then, after a moment, he asked, “Is the Room of Requirement… is it back?”

“I’m afraid not,” Flitwick replied in his squeaky voice, “It was a remarkable room though, from what I’ve heard of it. The fiendfyre overwhelmed any remaining strength it possessed.”

“However,” McGonagall said quickly, “We have transformed that space into a memorial, Mister Potter. Dedicated to the war. With a portrait of Albus Dumbledore watching over it. It’s linked to the one in my office.”

Harry gulped. The ghostly figure of his former mentor rising from the Stone still haunted him. “I see,” he rasped.

***

_An hour later, Seventh Floor War Memorial_

Harry gaped at the sight around him. McGonagall’s animated suits of armor – that had once been compelled to march upon the Death Eaters - dented by the force of countless spells, stood in a corner, sealed inside a display case. There were quite a few things there that he recognized, including an epitaph with the names of all those that had fallen during the battle, on _both_ sides of the war. Countless students would come to this room in the future and gaze upon these artefacts, marveling at the notion of a battle being fought at a school. The more historically inclined students would point out _this_ armor and _that_ broom to their peers, and weave stories around it.

But only a handful of them would _ever_ know what it was to be like right in the middle of the battle. Only a handful would know what it was like to march to certain death and take on the most fearsome Dark Lord in all of Europe.

Harry shook his head, clearing it of morbid thoughts. What he _needed_ to see was on the far wall of the room – the portrait of Albus Dumbledore. And his mentor’s portrait was occupied.

Harry walked ever so slowly towards the portrait, praying that it did not _know_ what he had done only this morning. He could not bear to see _that_ look of disdain again.

He need not have feared at all. The two-dimensional figure of Albus Dumbledore looked upon him with a kind smile.

“Sir,” he said, “Hello.”

“Harry,” Albus greeted warmly, “It’s nice to see you again. What brings you here?”

“I…” Harry stammered. His mentor’s portrait, with its warm smile, was so incongruous with the harsh specter he had conjured up only this morning. “I miss you,” he finished. He meant it.

Albus looked at Harry in pity. “I’m sorry, Harry,” he said.

Harry shook his head. “In any case, sir,” he continued, “I just wanted to ask you about… you know… your wand.”

Albus merely looked at him curiously.

“Your wand, sir,” Harry repeated.

“My wand, Harry?” Dumbledore asked.

“How… how did you _control_ it?” Harry asked desperately, _hoping_ and _praying_ that Dumbledore would not vanish this time around.

“Control?” Dumbledore asked, “I’m afraid I do not know what you are asking me, Harry. Is this a question about magical theory?”

“I…” Harry paused. There was no light of recognition in the portrait’s eyes.

“Your second wand, sir,” Harry said.

The portrait stiffened and looked around the room with furrowed eyes. “Silencing Charm, please, Harry.”

Harry obeyed and cast a bubble around him, sealing them off from the world outside. He turned to the portrait expectantly.

“Why do you ask, Harry?” Albus asked.

“I...” Harry said, but Dumbledore interrupted him.

“You are asking about the Elder Wand,” Dumbledore stated. It was not a question, but Harry nodded nonetheless.

“Well,” Dumbledore said, smiling at him, “You need not fear, Harry. The wand’s power died with me.”

Harry’s heart sank. Dumbledore sounded so… _hopeful_. But he knew better – Dumbledore’s portrait clearly did not know that Harry had inherited the wand. They _did_ have a conversation before he had discarded the Elder Wand, but the portrait hadn’t quite caught on that Harry actually owned it.

He _could_ work with that though.

“Sir,” Harry said casually, “I… guess, I just wanted to know how you managed to control it. You once told me that the Elder Wand was… that it affected you. Mentally. Physically. That it compelled you to… destroy.”

“Did I?” Dumbledore’s portrait asked. Harry nodded and the portrait looked into the distance, pondering his words. “I suppose it is harmless now to discuss this. Yes, the Elder Wand _did_ affect me, in several ways. It _exists_ to corrupt and destroy – it is not a tool that lends itself easily to constructive work.”

“How did you control it?” Harry asked.

“I did not,” Albus said simply, “I never used it until the year before my death, Harry.”

Harry gaped. After a moment’s pause, he asked incredulously, “Professor… what?”

“You have to _use_ the wand, Harry, at least _once_ before it begins to eat away at your mind. Every owner that has ever used that terrible wand has been perverted by its will, slaves to a never-ending cycle of violence and lust. It pitted fathers against sons, brother against brother and wizard against wizard. None that has used the wand has ever truly managed to subvert it.”

“But… you were not influenced.”

“I saw what it did to the man I loved, Harry. Gellert Grindelwald was _betrayed_ by his wand – I will not deny that he was drawn to _power_. But he was never malicious – not like Tom. And yet, once he began to use that accursed wand, he began to change. To transform. He became a shell of the man he once was. And it pitted love against love.”

A single tear rolled down the portrait’s cheek.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said softly.

“And I _knew_ how the wand affected its conqueror, Harry,” Albus continued, “So I never used it. I entrusted it to the one man I could truly _trust_ to keep it away from me.”

“Who?” Harry asked curiously.

“My brother,” Albus said quietly, his eyes peering into the distance once more. “Aberforth, more than any other wizard on the planet, _never_ forgave me for what happened to our family. He would never yield to my whims – if I turned up at his door out of the blue and asked for the wand, he would _never_ have handed it over to me without good reason.

“And during those years,” Albus continued, “I searched and _searched_ for a way to _control_ the wand. To use it and bend it to my will.

“But I never quite managed to find the solution. I even consulted Aberforth about it – he’s quite the wandcrafter himself. But neither he nor I were able to come up with a solution to that dilemma. The wand itself is an impenetrable mystery to us, Harry. Apart from the thestral core, we know absolutely nothing about it.

“And wandcrafters protect their secrets _very_ well. Most wandcrafters we spoke to had not even heard of a wand that could influence its wielder. Aberforth’s own research did not yield much, either. The Elder Wand is an anomaly, Harry. A blight on the world. A tear in the fabric of reality – it should not exist. It is monstrously empty – incomplete, filled with neither good nor bad. Utterly hollow. It _should not be used_. It can _never_ be controlled.

“I was one of the few owners fortunate enough to have the mental fortitude to _not_ use it and succumb to its allure, and I had a brother who _loathed_ me and was willing to keep away the most powerful wand in the history of magic away from me.”

“So you never came upon a way to… control it?” Harry asked, his heart sinking.

“I’m afraid not, Harry,” the portrait said, “And if I did, I did not have enough time to tell… me… about it.” Dumbledore chuckled. “Remember, Harry,” he said, “Portraits are limited by what their subjects teach them.”

Harry floundered for a moment and then asked, desperately, “What if… what if… did you try the other Hallows?”

Dumbledore sighed. “In my last year as a living, breathing human being,” he said tiredly, “I _did_ go back to my brother and retrieved the Elder Wand. He had kept it under a Fidelius Charm all along – I told him I intended for it to die with me and after swearing an Unbreakable Vow that I did not intend to abuse its power, he let me have it.

“It _still_ influenced me Harry. Had I been a younger, and brasher wizard, in the prime of his health, it would have compelled even _me_ to do _horrible_ things.”

It all made sense in Harry’s head. Dumbledore had been _reckless_ in his final year, teasing Harry with information, letting death brush him by with Draco Malfoy’s repeated attempts on his life and endangering the entire school.

Dumbledore continued, “I _did_ try using the Resurrection Stone. I touched the wand to it, on a silly whim. Nothing happened. I even borrowed your remarkable cloak, Harry, but the effect is not nullified. Place all the objects together and they only _tear_ you apart with their suggestion and allure. One commands you to _act_ , the other encourages you to strive for mediocrity and the last whispers sweet nothings in your ear, comforting you with thoughts of death. The three Hallows do not nullify each other – they merely _combine_ and _clash_. The myth of the Wielder of the Deathly Hallows, the Master of Death… is just a _myth_ , Harry. A lie.”

Harry looked at Dumbledore in despair.

 _Great_ , he thought, _yet_ _another dead end._

***

_January 8, Hogwarts Express_

Ginny took a deep breath and leaned in to speak to Hermione. They were alone in the Prefects’ Carriage and were on the way back to Hogwarts for the start of their second semester – Hermione had stayed behind at Ginny’s urging. Ginny did not _dare_ meet Gabrielle before she had fulfilled the half-veela’s request.

“What’s this about, Ginny?” Hermione asked curiously.

“I… I…” Ginny floundered.

Hermione just stared at her expectantly.

“I’m not going to allow Harry to sleep with you,” Ginny blurted out. Then she blushed – that had _not_ quite come out the way she had intended.

For a brief moment, Ginny thought Hermione’s eyes _flashed_ in anger, but the next moment, Ginny thought she had imagined it – Hermione was merely looking at her with understanding and warmth.

“I… suppose I understand, Ginny,” Hermione said slowly, “You want him all to yourself.”

Ginny smiled. Hermione was taking this a lot better than Gabrielle had told her she would. Ginny almost felt guilty – she _knew_ there was nothing between Hermione and Harry she should be worried about. It had just been sex.

“Well,” Ginny said, “It’s not that… I don’t… I just…”

“It’s okay,” Hermione said kindly, and then looked right into Ginny’s eyes. “But I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you for him one last time, Ginny.”

Ginny just stared at Hermione. “One last time?” she asked, her suspicions rising once again.

Hermione blushed and looked demurely at the floor. “I… it’s just… Ron’s been so _insistent_ about it…” she said.

Ginny flushed as well. “I don’t know, Hermione,” she said uneasily.

Hermione sighed. She asked in a small voice, that made Ginny feel incredibly guilty, “You… don’t trust me, do you?”

“It’s not that!” Ginny said fervently.

“Just one last time, for Ron,” Hermione said quickly, “I even got an _orb_ , Ginny, to record it. I’ll record this last encounter, Ginny – so I can relive it again and again… for y’know… him.”

Ginny thought about it for a second. She supposed it _was_ bit unfair to Hermione – she hadn’t exactly stopped Harry from sleeping around with her mom, or Fleur or any of the others. Just _Hermione_. She supposed she owed it to the bushy-haired girl, at least for her brother’s sake.

“Okay,” she said finally, taking a deep breath, “One last time. You can record it… just don’t let it get out. But this is _it_ though.”

“Of course,” Hermione said graciously.

“When do you want to…?” Ginny prompted.

“Oh,” Hermione said, “I was thinking… after my semi-final match against Gabrielle. The day after tomorrow.”

Ginny nodded at the girl and walked out of the carriage, leaving Hermione behind. Had Ginny bothered to turn around and look, she’d have noticed the thunderous scowl that had settled upon Hermione’s face the moment Ginny’s back was turned to her.

***

“Well?” Gabrielle asked in a whisper as Ginny sat down next to the half-veela on the train, “Did you tell Hermione?”

Ginny gulped. “I… yeah,” she said. She did not really want to lie to Gabrielle, but she felt a _bit_ sorry for Hermione and her brother. She supposed that as long as Gabrielle never got to know about Hermione’s last encounter, it would all work out – Hermione could sleep with Harry one last time and record it so that her brother and Hermione could use it for their own purposes later.

“Good girl,” Gabrielle said, stroking Ginny’s hair softly.

Ginny just leaned back and watched Natalie argue with Nandini about something or the other – she was _uneasy_ keeping secrets from Gabrielle.

But it was harmless, in any case. Or so Ginny thought.

***

_January 8, Great Hall_

Harry missed the silence of the winter holidays, now that the Great Hall was filled with noise again. He supposed he would not be able to roam around the castle at will now that everything had returned to normal – he had enjoyed quite a carefree set of holidays this winter, going into the Forbidden Forest occasionally to satisfy his bloodlust, driving off acromantulas or subduing trolls, and even, on one occasion, driving off a herd of griffons. That had been a truly epic battle – griffons, in his opinion, were _far_ more powerful than hippogriffs. Of course, Harry had relegated himself to simple spells – but the rush of battle as he evaded a griffon’s talons, or as he narrowly avoided a troll’s club, was _thrilling_ and seemed to hold the influence of the Deathstick at bay.

Either way, he _was_ glad to see Ginny and the rest of his friends again. To his immense surprise, Hermione seemed to have joined their group. He noticed Ron talking to the Frobisher girl two seats to his right and waved happily at his best male friend.

Ginny marched straight up to him and kissed him. He kissed right back. And just as he was able to sit down beside her, _Gabrielle_ caught him by the lapels and _pulled_ him towards her, across the table. And then _she_ kissed him deeply. There were gasps all around. After an amazing kiss, in full view of the table, with a _lot_ of tongue involved, Gabrielle let go.

Harry quickly turned to Ginny. To his immense surprise, his girlfriend merely smiled at him and _winked_ at Gabrielle.

Harry blushed and sat down. Ron gave him a very cheesy thumbs up and he grinned back weakly. Most of the guys seated around him were staring at him in awe. His own group, though, seemed to be a bit miffed. _Of course,_ Harry thought, _miffed might be an understatement._

He had _never_ seen Hermione look so _angry_ before. Her eyes were _blazing_ with wrath – luckily for him though, most of her ire seemed to be directed at Ginny and Gabrielle.

“So,” Demelza said slowly, as they all settled in. They were all sitting in the same positions that they had during the start of the previous term – Ginny to his left, Demelza to his right, Gabrielle in front, flanked by Nandini and Natalie. Hermione was sat next to Natalie, diagonally opposite Demelza.

“Uh… what just happened?” Nandini asked.

“I… thought you two were… y’know, competing for Harry’s hand or something,” Natalie said. Harry chuckled.

“Guess we found a way to settle our differences,” Gabrielle said airily.

“How very… _French_ … of you,” Hermione said in a stiff voice.

“Excuse me?” Gabrielle asked, her voice _very_ delicate, holding a dangerous edge.

“Oh… just the whole _mistress_ thing,” Hermione said coldly.

“Oh, you mean the French _muggle_ thing,” Gabrielle said casually, “Polyamory is acceptable in _our_ world, Hermione. You only have to be open-minded enough to accept it.”

Hermione gave a low snarl and Natalie tensed.

“Why do you care anyway, _Granger_?” Gabrielle asked.

“Oh, just concerned for Ginny’s well-being,” Hermione said.

Ginny smiled at Hermione. “That’s very kind, Hermione,” she said quietly, “But… I guess I don’t mind Gabrielle at all. I… I’d rather not talk about the details of our relationship, but we’re both _very_ much in love. With both Harry and… each other.”

Harry’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline as he stared at his girlfriend. _Guess a lot of things can happen in three weeks_ , he thought.

Gabrielle just smiled smugly and leaned back. She winked at Demelza, who was _gaping_ across Harry at Ginny.

“Ginny!” Nandini said, obviously just as taken aback, “You… I didn’t know you… uh… not that there’s anything wrong with swinging that way… but… uh…”

Ginny giggled.

“I sort of knew,” Natalie admitted, “Ginny confessed to me in our third year that she sort of swung both ways.”

Demelza just took a deep breath. “Fine,” she said, “I won’t deny this isn’t a surprise, but if Ginny’s happy, we’re all with her.”

Ginny smiled and basked in the warmth of their group. Harry, though, did not miss the calculating looks Nandini and Demelza were giving him.

“Oh,” Gabrielle said sharply, “Don’t even _think_ about it, girls.” Nandini and Demelza immediately went back to looking annoyed.

Ginny just leaned back on her chair and looked around smugly. “Isn’t she a dear?” she said fondly.

“Oh, don’t be so possessive, Gabrielle,” Demelza said.

“Oh, I’m not possessive at all,” Gabrielle admitted, “And I’m _not_ going to tell Harry what he can or cannot do. However, our relationship is a closed loop, _period_. Now, if you want to take it further, we can discuss it away from prying ears. The rumor mill is going to be bad enough as it is.”

Harry had to admit he was surprised _and_ impressed by Gabrielle’s confidence. He was also a bit taken aback by the abrupt shift in his relationship with Ginny.

He _had_ suspected his girlfriend would bend sooner than later and allow Gabrielle into the fold, but this was much _more_ than that. Gabrielle had not just entered the fold, she had taken _command_ of the fold. The power dynamics of the relationship had changed completely – Ginny, from what he could tell, was actually being submissive to _Gabrielle_. Almost like Gabrielle was some sort of an older sister/lover.

 _Ah well,_ he thought as he leant back and extended an arm around Ginny; he grinned as he felt Gabrielle’s leg brush up against his own. He looked at the half-veela and saw the beautiful girl raise an eyebrow at him. He just grinned back at her and winked. Gabrielle blushed.

 _I love my life_ , he thought.

***

_January 9, Quidditch Stadium_

The roar of the crowd was deafening as Harry disarmed his opponent in three moves and walked back to his seat on the side of the pitch. But he knew the roar was not for him. The roar was for the _next_ match – Gabrielle versus Hermione.

He gazed around at the stadium as he sat down. McGonagall had been right – there were at least a _hundred_ veela in assistance. And a few dozen goblins – this was an unprecedented occasion in the wizarding world.

Madam Pomfrey bustled over to him as she started performing diagnosis charms all over his body.

“I’m fine, ma’am,” he said.

“Which is as it should be, Mister Potter,” Madam Pomfrey said sternly, “But I still need to ascertain that.”

He shrugged and allowed Madam Pomfrey to continue muttering charms over him. He smiled at Gabrielle, who was walking into the stadium – the veela in the audience had actually _risen_ from their seats at her appearance and were waving frantically at her, causing almost _all_ of the males (and some females) in the stadium to go slack-jawed. Gabrielle looked in Harry’s direction for a moment and waved at him. He just grinned at her.

Of course, most of Hogwarts was still cheering for Hermione, who was walking into the stadium as well. She appeared to be slightly intimidated by the crowd, but her jaw was set and she looked determined.

Harry just leaned back to enjoy the show.

***

Hermione Granger had never been so torn in her entire life. On one hand, she was overjoyed to see so many magical creatures find acceptance among the mainstream wizarding public. The presence of veela, and of goblins, cheering for a half-veela taking part in a prestigious dueling tournament – it was a coup for all the ideals of equality that she cherished.

On the other hand, they were cheering for _Gabrielle_. The _slut_. She looked on sourly as Gabrielle waved at Harry, seated at the end of the stadium alongside a slightly morose looking Chiyo Yagami – who had lost her duel just like all of Harry’s opponents. And Harry grinned right back at the half-veela.

Hermione had thought she had been competing with Ginny all along for Harry’s affections – but the _real_ threat had always been Gabrielle. In a matter of _months_ , the half-veela had wormed her way into Harry’s heart, and was slowly on her way to securing top spot in his affections. And _worse_ , Ginny appeared to be _happy_ being the submissive one in the relationship – when had that even _happened_? How had she missed _everything_?

They approached the center of the large stage in the middle of the stadium, under the glare of several floating spotlights and recording orbs. Just as both she and Gabrielle ascended the stage, a magical barrier _hummed_ into place around the circular platform, shielding the onlookers from stray spells.

The arbiter – a referee for dueling matches - stood right in the middle of the platform and beckoned both of the contests to the center. Hermione took a deep breath and proceeded to the center of the stage, watching the half-veela preen before the audience with a baleful glare.

“Hermione Granger!” the arbiter shouted, and paused as a _roar_ from all of the Hogwarts students echoed through the stadium at her name. She smiled at that – she had come a _long_ way from her first year as an anti-social know-it-all. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Harry pump his fist in the air and her heart rose. “Are you ready?” the arbiter asked. She nodded, and the crowd roared again.

“Gabrielle Delacour!” the arbiter said. The veela in the audience started chanting her name and the goblins started thumping their feet rhythmically on the wooden seats. A significant portion of the crowd – Beauxbatons students mostly – cheered as well. The roar was deafening, again. “Are you ready?”

Gabrielle smiled and said, “ _Born_ ready.”

The crowd roared again. Hermione grit her teeth. _So she knows how to play a crowd_ , she thought sourly.

“Bow,” the referee said.

Gabrielle smiled smugly at her, _winked_ and bowed. Hermione let out a low snarl as she bowed as well.

 _Okay_ , Hermione thought, _I don’t care if she’s championing veela rights. I am beating the SNOT out of her_.

“FIGHT!” the arbiter shouted as he moved away from the duel, hastily clearing space.

Almost immediately, Hermione let out a powerful jet of water out of the end of her wand, aiming it right at Gabrielle. It was met by a ball of fire and her jet burst into steam. Gabrielle had not even used her wand.

Hermione looked at the arbiter for a moment, but he said nothing. She remembered a lecture Flitwick had given on duels a long time ago. “Natural abilities are _always_ allowed in duels,” the professor had told them, “Metamorphmagi can transform, Animagi can assume their animal forms if they think it could help.”

Hermione cringed as _another_ ball of fire made its way towards her – Gabrielle was obviously using her veela powers with impunity. She ducked and rolled under the fire as the veela in the audience roared in approval. Gabrielle was making sure that _no one_ was in doubt about her veela heritage.

Hermione raised her wand and conjured blue fire. She _pushed_ it towards Gabrielle who met it with a wall of emerald flames. The half-veela simultaneously brought her wand around, letting out a flurry of spells at Hermione, who blocked them with a silent _Protego_.

 _Avis_ , Hermione thought and a flock of birds rose out of thin air, zooming straight at Gabrielle. _Aguamenti!_

A jet of water, even more powerful than her first jet, gushed at Gabrielle, who was busy dealing with the flock of birds. But Gabrielle erected a massive wall of emerald flames yet again, and Hermione’s jet immediately sizzled to steam. This time though, Hermione was ready. She _pushed_ her wand down and the steam coalesced into the shape of an otter that _plunged_ right through the fire. She heard a satisfying shriek from the other side. The wall of fire dropped and Gabrielle emerged. Her right arm looked slightly charred and reddish – Hermione’s steam otter had obviously burnt her.

Hermione did not pause though. She snapped off two stunners and then waved her wand right at the dueling platform. A shockwave rippled right through the platform and Gabrielle was on the defensive immediately, deflecting the stunners and trying to steady herself as the platform shook around her.

Hermione conjured a net and sent it flying but it tore apart under Gabrielle’s assault.

And that was when everything changed. Gabrielle _zipped_ aside with inhuman speed and an ear-piercing screech echoed around the stadium. A ball of fire zoomed towards Hermione, who ducked and rolled again. When she righted herself, she saw an awe-inspiring sight – a veela transformation.

Wings sprouted across Gabrielle’s back, even as the half-veela swerved to avoid Hermione’s hastily conjured metal chains. Forest-green feathers began to sprout all over her body and her limbs lengthened, forming talons. And then the wings _flapped_ and she _rose_ into the air majestically.

Hermione gaped. And the veela in the audience went _wild_. There were chants, roars, and shrieks – Hermione suddenly knew she was witnessing a _shift_ here. A _historic_ occasion – the day a _veela_ took on a _human_ in a _wizarding_ tournament.

She desperately snapped off stunners and body-binds, but they splashed _uselessly_ against Gabrielle’s body. The veela flew to the side as Hermione conjured a massive spear and _flung_ it at her with her wand, but it was easily avoided. A ball of fire came crashing down again and Hermione was forced to jump to the side to avoid it.

She sent out a massive jet of water, but Gabrielle merely swooped around it. And then, like a bird of prey, Gabrielle _charged_ through the air, _right_ at Hermione.

Hermione _pushed_ outwards, and a _wave_ of air blew Gabrielle off course. The veela screeched and righted course as she flew higher and higher. Hermione’s subsequent spells splashed harmlessly against her and Hermione was now resorting to physical conjuration again – it was obvious that stunners, disarming curses and spells in general were useless against the veela’s powerful form – but Gabrielle merely gained altitude, avoiding her conjurations with ease.

And when the veela was several dozen feet in the air above Hermione, she started sending down balls of fire again. They were too powerful for Hermione to _vanish_ , so she desperately tried to avoid them, swinging from side to side, jumping all around the stage, desperately trying to escape the fireballs that were blazing down at her from above. This was _not_ her kind of duel – she was _athletic_ to a certain extent, but she usually relied on her spell-casting and precision to vanquish her opponent. Hermione tried to snap off a spell or two in between avoiding Gabrielle’s fireballs, but each time she looked up, she saw _yet_ another ball of emerald fire raining down upon her and she had to _run_ to avoid it.

Suddenly, the half-veela was _right_ in front of her, cruel beak opening to form a screech. With a sinking sensation, Hermione realized that the balls of fire had just been a distraction, Gabrielle had been using them as cover to dive straight down at her. Gabrielle seized Hermione by her throat and _raised_ her into the air with inhuman strength. Hermione desperately brought her wand to bear, but Gabrielle seized her arm and _wrenched_ her wand out of her grasp. The veela let go and Hermione slumped to the ground.

The crowd was dead silent for a minute.

And then one of the veela – a stately, _beautiful_ woman – rose from her seat. She pumped her fist into the air and the veela _screeched_ with her. And the crowd went _wild_.

The wings and feathers vanished. The talons morphed into hands. And Hermione found herself looking once again at Gabrielle Delacour.

The veela just smiled at her. “Well fought, Hermione,” she said, “But I guess you _never_ saw me coming.”

And Hermione just _knew_ that she meant more than just the duel. She meant _Harry_.

Gabrielle dropped the wand in front of Hermione and walked back to the center of the stage to be declared victor.

Hermione just sat in place, slightly saddened about the loss of her duel.

Gabrielle had won a battle. But the _war_ was still not lost. Not even by a long shot.

Hermione picked up her wand and got to her feet, brushing the dirt off.

She was Hermione Granger. She _never_ let losses get her down. And she _never_ gave up.

***

_An hour later_

Hermione entered the Common Room after being treated for mild burns by Madam Pomfrey. A lot of the students were still milling about and a lot of them congratulated her, telling her she had made them proud by giving it her best shot.

But she did not care for their platitudes. She made her way _right_ to where Ginny and Harry were sitting.

“Hermione,” Ginny said, “Good show! I’m sorry you lost, but that was a _great_ duel.”

Harry nodded.

“Ginny,” Hermione said, “I… need to talk to you.”

Ginny looked into her eyes for a moment, and then got up. Hermione and Ginny then walked over to an alcove near the girls’ dorm, away from Harry’s curious eyes.

Hermione took a deep breath and said, “Ginny… I… uh…”

Ginny sighed. “Is this about what you asked on the train the day before yesterday?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Hermione said, “Is that… still on?”

Ginny said kindly, “Of course, Hermione. But again, I’m sorry it has to be this way – but Gabrielle isn’t comfortable with you. So… this is the last time.”

Hermione looked up sharply at that. “So,” she asked, “It was _Gabrielle_ that told you to keep Harry from me?”

Ginny looked slightly uncomfortable. “Uh… well… she…” the redhead stammered.

 _Of course_ , Hermione thought viciously, _of course it was the little blonde slut._

“Oh, just curious,” Hermione said casually.

Ginny smiled uneasily. “This is all for… Ron… right?”

“Of course,” Hermione lied through her teeth, “Like I said, I’m recording the whole thing. For posterity.”

Ginny giggled.

Hermione pulled out a small silver screen out of her pocket and held it out in front of Ginny.

Ginny gasped. “Is that…?”

“A Chart-O-Vision?” Hermione completed, “Yes. It’s for you. I’ve already charmed it to respond to my recording orb.”

“For… me?”

“Oh, you know… just to reassure yourself. This way, you can see the entire thing.”

“But what about Ron? Will he be watching too?”

“Oh, he has his own Chart. I just wanted to… reassure you. And if you want, you can watch. This way, Harry isn’t doing this whole thing behind your back.”

Ginny tentatively took the chart from Hermione. She looked a bit bewildered. And then she smiled at Hermione. “You’re taking this better than I thought you would,” she said.

“Of course,” Hermione said graciously.

***

The students slowly fizzled out of the room, making their way towards the dorms to sleep after an eventful day.

Eventually, Hermione noticed Harry get up to go to his dorm and cut him off.

“Hermione?” Harry asked.

“Harry,” she said, “You’re coming with me.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“I cleared it with Ginny. Harry, _please_. I need this. Today,” Hermione said.

He smiled and put his hand in hers. She clasped his palm with both her hands and _pulled_ him towards the Head Girl’s dorm.

***

“Hermione!” Harry gasped as Hermione pushed him against the wall and _kissed_ him noisily.

He flipped them around, pushing _her_ into the wall and _pulled_ at her lower lip, munching on it with his own lips. Hermione _purred_. And that was when Harry saw exactly whose door they were kissing against.

He drew them off with a start. On the door was a plaque reading “MARY MACDONALD – HEAD OF GRYFFINDOR”

“Hermione,” he said, “I… uh… had no idea we were near MacDonald’s room.”

Hermione giggled. “Afraid your favorite professor might catch us, Harry? Catch the Head Girl shagging the Boy-Who-Lived right outside her bedroom? Catch me mounting your big fat cock right outside her own bedroom?”

“Uh,” Harry trailed off.

“Fear not, oh fearless conqueror,” Hermione said as she pushed Harry _across_ the corridor to the door of a room that read “HEAD GIRL: HERMIONE GRANGER”.

The door opened and they tumbled in.

***

Ginny closed the curtains around her four-poster bed and hesitantly looked at the silver screen. It was _tantalizing_ – she knew Hermione had given it to her as a show of good faith, but she was _torn_. On one hand, she _had_ taken particular enjoyment in making Harry relive his exploits with _other_ women when they had sex. But she didn’t quite know if she was ready for _this_ – her boyfriend shagging her _brother’s girlfriend_. It was ridiculous – hell, her _brother_ would be watching this right now on another silver screen, masturbating furiously as Harry pounded his girlfriend.

And she didn’t share her brother’s weird fetish… _did she_?

Ginny bit her lip and expanded the silver screen so that it covered the entire section of curtain at the foot of her bed. She floated the screen over and glued it to the curtain with her wand.

One touch of her wand would be all it took to bring the screen to life.

 _I do not want to watch this_ , Ginny thought, _I don’t. I’m not… I don’t… Harry…_

A series of images flashed through her head. Harry’s massive cock pounding into a tiny little snatch that was not her own, his muscled body spasming as he experienced the ultimate pleasure with another woman that was not her… she was _not_ into that stuff.

 _Was she_?

And then, another image popped into her head -

 _Harry pounding into Gabrielle, her blonde hair askew, while Ginny munched on the half-veela’s gorgeous tits_ …

_… But that’s Gabrielle… we’re going to be together now… it’s okay to think of her and Harry like that…_

_… Harry pounding into Hermione’s gorgeous, trim figure, her pretty face scrunched up in pleasure while Ginny caressed the Head Girl…_

_… Crap_.

Ginny sighed. With numb hands, she cast a Silencing Charm on the curtains, shrugged off her robes and lay entirely naked on the bed. And then she waved her wand at the screen. It burst into life.

And she saw the Head Girl’s room. It was absolutely empty.

 _Well_ , Ginny thought, _that’s anti-climactic_.

She peered around the screen interestedly. The recording orb Hermione possessed ( _how did Hermione even afford one of those?_ ) was obviously placed right in front of the massive bed in the center of the room. It was very luxurious, and Ginny could see that Hermione herself had obviously customized the room. The carpet was emerald green – Ginny was reminded of Harry’s eyes, and that made her uncomfortable ( _perhaps Gabrielle was right_ , Ginny thought, and then perished the notion… there was no going back now) – and elaborate runes were stitched into it. Glowing orbs were floating around the room, bathing the room in a romantic orange glow. Hermione’s desk was on the far side of the room, and Ginny could make out a ton of books stacked into neat piles and held in place by bookends that looked like… books (Ginny _had_ to laugh at that). There were no posters on the room walls – just a few sheets with quotations by famous witches stuck on the wall in front of her study table. A tiny dressing table sat in one corner of the room with a small mirror and what looked like a make-up kit.

The bed itself looked plush and luxurious, covered in velvet sheets – it had a very elaborate looking wrought iron bed-head with carvings of dryads and mermaids. That _definitely_ was not Hermione’s touch – it was probably a bed that had been in the Head Girl’s room forever.

Ginny sighed, and after five minutes of waiting, moved to switch off the screen – she was half-relieved, half-disappointed.

And _just_ as she was about to wave her wand at the screen, the door burst open.

Harry and Hermione tumbled into the room, locked in fierce embrace. Their lips seemed to be glued to each other and Ginny could _hear_ Hermione moaning and slurping – their _tongues_ were on each other. And then, the door slammed shut behind them. Their kiss deepened, even as their bodies drew apart and their clothes started dropping.

Hermione never stopped kissing Harry as her hands deftly worked her skirt off, followed by her panties. The she _tore_ her shirt apart and flung it aside. Her bra followed shortly after. Harry just waved his wand at himself and his clothes _vanished_. And then, to Ginny’s utter amazement, his _wand_ vanished into thin air – _how did he do that?_

And through it all, the couple was still managing to march in lockstep to the bed. Eventually, Hermione squealed as she tumbled backwards onto her own bed, her lips finally pulling off Harry’s as she sat on her bed. Harry plopped down next to her. Hermione scooted over to one side of the bed and sat against the headboard, her legs splayed wide open and Ginny had a glorious view of her vagina. It was _gorgeous_ – Ginny _had_ to admire the girl’s pink slit, with juicy red lips clinging _tightly_ to one another. It was absolutely _miniscule_ – how _had_ Hermione had sex with Harry’s monster anyway?

And _Harry_ – Ginny went breathless as Harry scooted over right next to Hermione and leant against her headboard. His legs were wide apart as well – Ginny could see those apple-sized testicles she _loved_ sucking on and that juicy man-meat she _loved_ tasting.

Ginny palmed her own tits at the sight and moaned. She _pulled_ at her nipples.

“How can you just _sit_ there, Hermione, you _slut_?” she gasped, “Little Harry looks so… _desperate_.”

Harry stretched a muscled arm to his right around Hermione’s shoulders and pulled her closer to him. And Hermione leant right into his chest with a sigh. Hermione’s left hand was trapped against Harry’s side, but she ran her slender right hand down his chest, tracing a line down his pectorals and feeling up his abs as she _snaked_ her hand down to the… prize.

 _Her hands are so tiny_ , Ginny thought, _that cock is bigger than her wrist_. Ginny massaged her breasts _hard_ and refocused on the action.

Her boyfriend looked like a beast sitting next to the petite Hermione – the Head Girl was absolutely _tiny_. Hermione was snuggling into Harry’s thick neck and her left hand snuck behind Harry’s back as she turned towards him. Her right hand though, _finally_ reached Harry’s enormous shaft. It was _rock-hard_ pointing _straight_ into the air, _gleaming_ in the soft glow of the orbs floating around the bed. It looked _perfect_ to Ginny – thick, but not overly veiny, _monstrous_ but beautiful, ending in a _massive_ mushroom-shaped head. It looked like a _glorious_ battering ram, blunt and wide.

“You have a monster cock,” Hermione said in awe, echoing Ginny’s thoughts, “But it looks so… _beautiful_.” Harry just chuckled as he looked down to observe her hand’s trajectory. Hermione just traced _up_ the shaft with her right hand, her fingers only managing to form a semi-circle around that massive rod. Ginny couldn’t take it anymore – she _had_ to get off. With her left, she kept pulling on her breast and nipple, while her right hand traced down to her own clit. Ginny _pressed_ and moaned, circling the nub ever so pleasantly.

Pathetically, she moaned as she saw another woman toy with Harry’s cock.

Hermione’s dainty fingers continued to trace a teasing path _up_ Harry’s shaft, along the _top_ side of his cock. The Head Girl then bit her lip as she fixed her eye on the cock she was stroking with her entire hand; she _pushed_ and Harry’s shaft _angled_ forward, unbending as an oak tree. Hermione then stroked deliberately all the way up to Harry’s enormous cockhead.

Suddenly, Hermione pushed her left hand out from between her side and Harry’s and held onto the base of Harry’s cock. She _pushed_ his cock back up towards her and palmed the crown, stroking with the flat of her palm against his massive dome and single eye. She giggled and then started squeezing and pulling his purple crown with her entire palm.

“You _whore_ ,” Ginny moaned as she _pressed_ on her clitoris once more, “You little fucking _nerd_.”

Harry’s face and Hermone’s were now side by side, his right cheek and her left smushed together as they both gazed down at Hermione’s hands worshipping his penis. Harry was hugging Hermione into him now, his right hand now tracing the side of her cushy right boob – they were a handful, though Ginny was slightly relieved that she _far_ outweighed the Head Girl in bust size.

Ginny gaped as Hermione’s left palm – her forefinger and thumb not even close to touching each other as she encircled his enormous meat – _tugged_ at the base of Harry’s cock even as her right kept fondling his humongous crown.

 _Bloody hell_ , Ginny thought, _there’s still space for me and Gabrielle on that thing_!

Harry smiled and leant back on the headboard, his hands falling onto the cushions at the head of the bed as he sprawled imperiously over it. Hermione, on the other hand, leaned forward, eager to play with the cock she was cradling. Only, she didn’t have to lean forward much. His enormous cock was pointing straight into the air. Harry spread his thighs out and pushed his hips forward.

“I’ve never quite seen it like _this_ before,” Hermione gasped, “It’s _enormous_!” His dome was level with her chin and her right palm still resting on top of it.

“And it’s so _juicy_ ,” Hermione crowed, “No wonder those _sluts_ were so eager to suck you _off_.”

Despite the fact that Ginny was _furiously_ fingering her clit now, she was completely thrown by that statement. _Sluts?_ She thought, _what sluts?_

Hermione had now fully turned to face Harry, her left leg bent under her bum and her right leg draped over Harry’s left thigh. Her slender leg didn’t quite manage to block off the view of Harry’s enormous massive balls though. With her left palm still curled around Harry’s base, she moved her right hand down and started massaging Harry’s ballsack. She rested her right palm on it, just feeling his testes move up and down with each inhalation and exhalation; then, she starting palming and massaging them and Harry sighed happily. Now, with her right hand on automatic, just cradling and lightly squeezing Harry’s cum-filled testicles, she started playing with his shaft.

She lightly licked at the head with the tip of her tongue, not even having to bend because his dome was practically next to her chin. Then she just nuzzled into it, rubbing her face from side to side against the crown leaving a trail of Harry’s slimy pre-cum across her glistening cheeks, and then pushed her nose against his cockhead and _inhaled_. She then shifted her left hand so that instead of being curled around the underside of Harry’s cock-base, it was curled on the other side. The she pushed down so that his massive unyielding rod angled down until it was at roughly sixty degrees to the vertical from its former perfectly vertical position. Hermione then bent forward so that her face was in the space just vacated by Harry’s shaft, in between his pole and his muscled, reclining torso. She let go of his cock and it sprang back, smashing into Hermione’s face and slapping her silly.

Hermione moaned, withdrew her face from where it had been smashed against his shaft and said, still gazing at his cock in wonder, “It feels like being hit by a broomstick.”

Harry chuckled again. He was just looking at Hermione with… _adoration_? _Affection_? _Fondness_? Ginny couldn’t quite tell.

Hermione was actually playing with Harry’s cock like a girl who had found a fascinating new toy, swinging it this way and that, slapping her face over and over again ( _Merlin_ , Ginny thought, _it’s so big her face doesn’t even span the upper half_ ), mussing up her hair with it, nipping at it and laying kisses around its bulbous head.

Ginny _plunged_ her middle finger and ring finger into her snatch – she was _wet_. The sight of the Head Girl ruining her perfect face with Harry’s giant-sized penis was just too much. Ginny started _plunging_ her fingers back and forth into her own pussy like she was _possessed_.

Hermione’s eyes then narrowed with a fierce determination Ginny had only seen on her when she tried to solve a particularly frustrating piece of homework. “I… _want_ this,” she said fiercely. Harry just smiled at her and said, “Oh, you’ll get it alright, Hermione.”

“I want _you_ ,” Hermione repeated wildly and then stood up on the bed right beside Harry. She faced towards the camera - showing off her entire front profile to Ginny - turning her back to Harry and planted her left leg firmly on Harry’s other side. She leaned forward, stroking down her legs sensuously.

 _She’s doing this for Ron_ , Ginny thought as she stroked herself frantically, _she’s giving her boyfriend a show_. _The whore_.

Her tiny, but perky, ass was right in front of Harry’s face and Harry leaned in to nuzzle it – while the orb was slightly off to the side of the bed, Ginny could not quite see Harry’s face as he nuzzled Hermione’s ass, but her ass cheeks jiggled and Hermione squeaked. The Head Girl then trailed her ass down, mashing her ass cheeks around his chin and onto his neck; Harry face emerged from her ass crack with a grin on his face. She then trailed her ass down and onto his chest and down on his abdomen as she slowly sat down on Harry’s midriff. His cock angled forward again as Hermione settled into a comfortable position on Harry’s abdomen. Now, Hermione was on top of Harry and they were both facing the orb, their legs splayed out with Hermione’s legs looking amazingly slender superimposed on Harry’s tree trunks.

The Head Girl’s legs lay right on top of Harry’s own legs and her ass was sitting on his midriff. Her pussy was flush against the base of Harry’s fat cock, but Ginny could not see it because Harry’s massive shaft stood ramrod straight right in front of Hermione, his base in front of her crotch and his head all the way near Hermione’s breasts.

“She so _fucking_ tiny!” Ginny gasped to herself as she continued to knead her tits and massage her clit, “Harry, you _freak_!”

Hermione moaned and leaned back against Harry’s chest as she ground her crotch right against Harry’s pole. She _pushed_ and _ground_ this way and that and Harry’s penis _swayed_ with her movements, still covering up her twat with his girth. Ginny gulped as she saw rivulets of a transparent fluid run smoothly down Harry’s enormous hairless balls – obviously Hermione was _gushing_ , just like _Ginny_ was.

And then Hermione, still seated on Harry’s crotch with his cock jutting out in front of her, bent over, her modest breasts draping around the mid-section of Harry’s rod; she grabbed around the lower half of his shaft, pushing it against her stomach and _kissed_ his cockhead with pouty lips. Harry threw his head back and moaned; his hands moved off the couch and Harry started massaging Hermione’s slender back, working over her shoulders and her upper back.

And the kiss deepened as Hermione’s lips drew apart; her mouth widened and her lips slid slowly around his crown. She bent even further and with a loud slurp his enormous crown _stuffed_ into her wet mouth.

“Fuck yes!” Harry groaned. Hermione then started mashing her lips on his enormous dome like she was eating it so that she slurped down even further. “Munch on my dick!”

His entire fat crown had been crammed into her mouth now and Hermione sank even further until she was a quarter of the way down his rod before she started gagging. She choked and dribbled around his penis and tried to rise up but Harry moved a hand off her back to the back of her head and held her in place. Both of Hermione’s hands were rubbing frantically up and down Harry’s shaft as she desperately tried to rise up and free her mouth of his enormous invader, but Harry just grinned as he held her in place with a single hand.

Ginny started stroking her pussy furiously at the sight of his Hermione choking on her boyfriend’s massive meatstick as it clogged up her throat. Hermione’s eyes were rolling up with lack of oxygen even as she tugged and pulled at the lower three quarters of Harry’s rigid shaft that was not stuffed into her throat, wiggling and _grinding_ against his meat as her hands _tugged_ up Harry’s meat and then _smacked_ into his springy balls painlessly as she stroked down. Her spit dribbled all the way down Harry’s cock and accumulated on her hands, then dropping down onto his testes, which were nestled onto the bed.

Suddenly, Harry let go and Hermione withdrew with a gasp. She wheezed and panted, her gorgeous tits with their bullet sized nipples heaving up and down as she rose off his shaft with strands of spit dribbling down her mouth.

“That… how you… treat a woman?” Hermione asked through panting breaths.

“No,” Harry said casually, “That’s how I treat a _cock tease_ , Hermione. All of those previous encounters, _commanding_ me and _using_ me like you _owned_ me. And _now_ , you’ve got a recording orb in _front_ of our bed.”

“Uh…” Hermione gasped, “It’s for… recording.”

Harry’s eyes turned flinty. “For… Ron?” he asked.

“Forget about all that,” Hermione said suddenly, her voice clearing, “Just… focus on _me_.”

 _There’s something very wrong here_ , Ginny thought, _previous encounters? I thought there was only that one time?_

Yet, she could not _stop_ herself. Hermione looked so _sexy_ – the normally poised, _virginal_ girl, was now sitting behind an _enormous_ cock, _slutting_ herself up like a bitch in heat.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Ginny moaned, pressing _up_ on her inner walls, searching _desperately_ for _that_ spot, “She’s _fucking_ hot!”

Harry just settled back, though he seemed a _little_ colder. “Go on, then,” he said. Hermione, though, just smiled and looked _straight_ at the orb… looked straight at _Ginny_ (though Ginny thought Hermione was actually looking straight at Ron).

“I could play with this for hours,” Hermione said sultrily as she kept jerking up and down the lower half of Harry’s shaft as she hunched over his fat cockhead.

Harry didn’t answer. He just held onto her head pushed her back onto his cock. Hermione flashed a smile at Harry’s cock as if welcoming it into her drooling trap and she leaned down, throwing herself onto his meat and stuffing it down her throat again. She made a _grrk_ sound as she choked herself silly on Harry’s cock and this time, Harry wasn’t even forcing her down – he had abandoned her head in favor of massaging her back again.

“Look at that little horny _nerd_ go!” Ginny crowed.

Hermione then started moving up and down on Harry’s cock, keeping his crown in her mouth and alternating between choking as his head hit the back of her throat and then breathing deeply through her nose as she lifted herself up to the ridge where his crown met his shaft. And considering the limited range of motion Hermione possessed, bent over on Harry’s lap as she was, she was still doing an excellent job of blowing the length of his shaft she could access.

Harry eventually moved off her back, even as Hermione drooled and chomped on his penis like a slut, and started palming her tits, bending forward onto her. He pulled at Hermione’s nipples - and such amazing nipples they were – that were standing at attention like never before, aroused beyond belief.

“She _loves_ it,” Ginny gasped, “She loves being treated like a _whore_.”

Harry _pulled_ her off his shaft like she was weightless and Hermione squealed as she was dropped back onto the bed unceremoniously. Harry pushed her onto her right side and _pushed_ her left thigh high into the air, spreading her legs apart. He then rolled over, so that his back was to the orb and leant in to _taste_ the Head Girl’s muff. His ass was to the orb and his _enormous_ balls and shaft hung right between his thighs – Ginny _moaned_ at the erotic sight.

Ginny _remembered_ that divine tongue _plunging_ into her own depths. She _knew_ what the bushy-haired girl would soon feel.

And sure enough, Hermione started _moaning_ as Harry started working over her – Ginny couldn’t see his face; the orb was behind him. All she could see was the back of Harry’s head as he dove right at Hermione’s cunt.

But she _could_ see Hermione’s face. And she saw only utter _bliss_. The Head Girl’s eyes were glazed, and she was looking _right_ at the camera. She looked almost _wild_ , with her brown hair hanging around her, her beautiful face flushing with pleasure.

“ _Oh fuck!_ ” Hermione moaned, just as Ginny murmured, _“Morgana!_ ”

The very _air_ seemed to shimmer around Hermione and Ginny _knew_ that Harry was using his magic. His tongue was _vibrating_ in Hermione’s wet snatch, _plunging_ and twisting and _twirling_ around, _caressing_ her inner spots and _flicking_ this way and that, taking the Head Girl to the very _heights_ of pleasure.

Ginny _knew_ what that felt like.

Hermione _screamed_ and buried her fingers into Harry’s messy hair, _pushing_ his head down into her vagina.

“ _Lick_ me! _Suck_! YES!” the girl moaned, “YES YES YES YES YEEEEEEEEEEEE…”

And the last vowel lengthened as Hermione’s body _spasmed_ around Harry’s head. The Head Girl threw her head back and _screamed_ to the heavens and Ginny _came_ at the sight. That was _beautiful_ – Hermione looked _gorgeous_ in the soft light of her room, shuddering around Ginny’s boyfriend. Ginny spasmed around her own fingers as she approached her own orgasm, her pussy _gushing_ as it quivered in the throes of pleasure.

“What the _fuck_?” screamed an annoyed voice to her left, interrupting her period of bliss.

Ginny struggled as she sought to refocus on the intruder and come down from her orgasm, even as the action on the screen continued.

Somehow, she managed to turn her face to her left. Her curtains had been wrenched open and she looked right into the eyes of a _very_ angry Gabrielle Delacour.

 _Oh… shit_ , Ginny thought.

***

_Earlier_

Gabrielle was exhausted. She had fielded questions from the press, talked to the veela and goblins who had been quite enthusiastic about meeting her and had fended off overtures by overzealous fans. Eventually, she made her way to the Gryffindor common room only to find, to her utter disappointment that no one was around. Then again, curfew had long since passed them by, so she supposed she should not be so surprised. She _was_ a little bit disappointed that Harry was not around to greet her on her triumphant return – she had looked forward to a solid _night_ of fun to celebrate her victory over _Granger_. She chuckled at that – she had _won_. It was a victory for the rights of magical creatures, and she was proud of that… but it was also a victory for _her_. She was with Harry – she had displaced Ginny from the top of the relationship ladder and she had _decimated_ Granger.

And she had _plans_ for Harry. For that _power_. She wanted to be at his side as he accomplished great things, guiding him and advising him. And _loving_ him. She had plans for the _world_. And she _wanted_ to be at his side as they transformed the world _together_.

She slowly trudged through the empty Common Room and made her way up to the girls’ dorm. Her friends were all sleeping peacefully in their own beds.

She looked at Ginny’s bed and saw that the redhead had _pulled_ her curtains shut around her. Gabrielle smirked.

She tiptoed to Ginny’s bed with a mischievous smile on her face – she had wanted to celebrate this night with Harry, but in his absence, his girlfriend would do just as well. She _wrenched_ the curtain open and was hit by a sudden _wave_ of sound.

Gabrielle jumped onto the bed in alarm and wrenched the curtains back around her hurriedly, closing off the Silencing Charm Ginny had obviously cast on them. She then turned around and gaped.

Ginny was _masturbating_ – to a naked, writhing _Hermione Granger_ on a silver screen.

At first, Gabrielle was a bit disturbed, but then she saw exactly _why_ Granger was writhing. The annoying know-it-all was experiencing an _orgasm_ on the screen. More specifically, she was experiencing an orgasm because she was being licked off by a _hunk_ of a man with messy-looking black hair.

Gabrielle was _very_ familiar with that body and that hair.

Harry Potter was performing cunnilingus on Hermione Granger. And Ginny Weasley – Harry’s (and Gabrielle’s) girlfriend – was _masturbating_ to it.

“What… the… _fuck_?” Gabrielle screamed.

Ginny spasmed a bit more and then blearily looked in her direction. The redhead’s eyes widened as she recognized Gabrielle on her own bed.

“Gabrielle, I… I…” Ginny stammered.

Gabrielle angrily gestured to the screen. “What is _this_? When was this recorded?”

Ginny blushed and started stammering.

Gabrielle felt the blood _pounding_ in her temples now – she was _boiling_ in rage.

“Is this being recorded _now_?” she asked dangerously.

Ginny shrank before her and tried to crawl away, but Gabrielle _slapped_ her hands down on Ginny’s shoulders and _mounted_ the prone girl.

“Is. This. Being. Recorded. Now,” she asked through gritted teeth.

Ginny looked away and stammered, “Yes.”

Granger’s screams continued to echo behind Gabrielle. She _leant_ over Ginny, her clothed breasts pressing into the redhead’s naked tits.

“You _lied_ to me,” Gabrielle hissed, “You told me you had told her to back off.”

Ginny whined and pleaded, “ _Please_ , Gabrielle, I… she told me this was the _last_ time!”

“And you just said _yes_?” Gabrielle asked, her voice quivering with rage. Her aura _twanged_ around her, and she _knew_ the redhead could feel it – Ginny’s nipples were _pressing_ into her breasts and she could feel it through her _clothes_.

“She had just lost against _you_ , Gabrielle,” Ginny wailed, “I… just… I didn’t have the heart to say _no_.”

Gabrielle _glared_ at Ginny for a long moment, trying to ignore the bushy-haired _slut_ screaming in pleasure on the screen behind her. Ginny looked at her with pleading eyes, _begging_ Gabrielle to forgive her.

Eventually, Gabrielle let out a deep breath.

“Fine,” she gritted out, “ _If_ this is the last time…”

“It is!” Ginny replied hastily, “Hermione _promised_!”

“ _If_ this is the last time,” Gabrielle continued, “Sure. I don’t give a darn. She’s still with Ron, right?”

Ginny nodded frantically.

“Fine,” Gabrielle said as she moved _off_ Ginny, “Let Granger have this round of pity sex. After that, though, Harry is _all_ ours.”

She glared at Ginny again. “Do you _understand_?” she asked.

Ginny nodded, shaking her enormous tits in the process.

Gabrielle sighed and started pulling off her own robes.

Ginny stared as Gabrielle wriggled out of her clothes and _knelt_ in front of Ginny. Then the redhead squealed as Gabrielle sat down beside Ginny, _lifted_ her up and placed Ginny on her own lap.

“But you,” Gabrielle whispered into Ginny’s ear, “You need to be _punished_. For _lying_ to me. And for shlicking your naughty little pussy to _Granger_ , of all people.”

Gabrielle _hugged_ Ginny to her, pressing her own breasts against Ginny’s back. She then _weighed_ the redhead’s breasts. “Morgana,” Gabrielle rasped, “These tits are _enormous_.”

Ginny moaned as Gabrielle started _kneading_ her breasts _harshly_. Gabrielle _pinched_ Ginny’s tits and _pulled_ at the nipples… they stretched and stretched and _stretched_ until Ginny _screamed_.

“I’M SORRY!” the redhead shrieked, “PLEASE!”

Gabrielle kissed around Ginny’s neck and relaxed her hold. She started massaging Ginny’s tits and the redhead slumped against her.

“ _Never_ lie to me again,” Gabrielle hissed.

“Never,” Ginny gasped.

Gabrielle smiled and licked around the crook of Ginny’s neck as she continued what the redhead had been doing by herself on the bed. As Granger shrieked and writhed onscreen like a flopping fish, Gabrielle kneaded Ginny’s tit with one palm while she _slapped_ a hand on Ginny’s clit, eliciting a soft scream from the redhead and started _pushing_ down on it, _crushing_ it.

Ginny started _grinding_ her own clit against Gabrielle’s fingers.

And Gabrielle felt her own _stamen_ grow erect, _pressing_ against Ginny’s amazing arse. Then Gabrielle turned to look at the screen along with Ginny.

“What…?” Ginny gasped.

“You have an amazing derriere, _ma chère,” Gabrielle moaned as she started grinding her erect stamen right into the valley between Ginny’s huge cheeks, “Your bum feels like a pillow around my stamen.”_

_Ginny just groaned as Gabrielle caught Ginny’s clit and pulled, drawing out another soft scream from the redhead._

_“Such an amazing body,” Gabrielle gasped as she ground Ginny onto her lap, “Huge tits, wide ass… Harry must love working over you.”_

Just then, Harry stood _up_ on Hermione’s bed, even as the petite brunette lay on the bed quivering with the aftershocks of her orgasm by Harry’s skilled tongue. The bed _sank_ around Harry’s feet as he bent down, hooked his hands under Hermione’s armpits and lifted her into the air. Hermione gasped in surprise as she fastened her arms around Harry’s thick neck and hung onto him with her legs around his mid-section. Harry’s cock, lathered in the Head Girl’s spit, was entirely erect and pointing at an angle slightly greater than ninety degrees.

He hooked a single hand around Hermione’s back and _lifted_ her even higher into the air. Simultaneously, he grabbed his cock with the other hand and angled it _up_. He turned _towards_ the camera so that his grinning face was in full view along with his upward-pointing penis and massive hanging balls. Hermione’s ass covered his chest, and her slender torso was to the side of his face as the girl hung onto his head.

Hermione’s legs were hanging loose in mid-air, her body was flush against Harry, with his cock pointing _up_ between them.

“Does he know we’re watching?” Gabrielle gasped, _plunging_ her fingers into Ginny’s pussy.

“No,” Ginny gasped, “Just… Ron.”

“Wait…” Gabrielle asked with distaste, “Your _brother’s_ watching this too?”

Ginny nodded and moaned. Gabrielle felt slightly dirty, but she was secretly happy too – for all her book-smarts, Granger was an idiot. She definitely would not endear herself to Harry by “performing” for her boyfriend.

Hermione _groaned_ on the screen as Harry’s enormous cockhead _pushed_ into her tiny slit.

“That’s going to be a tight fit,” Gabrielle remarked.

Harry was holding on to Hermione’s ass now, letting her _down_ on his cock inch by inch. Hermione’s toes curled and uncurled as she _sank_ down on Harry’s shaft.

“In my… _stomach_ ,” Hermione moaned – Harry was actually _pulling_ her down now, her tight twat expanding in ludicrous fashion as his shaft burrowed deeper and deeper inside. Within seconds, Harry’s cock was completely sheathed inside the Head Girl, whose cunt was leaking _obscenely_ over his cock. Her fluids were _dripping_ out of her twat, despite the fact that her lips seemed to be _sealed_ shut around his massive girth. Her tight ass was sitting on his balls now.

“ _Merde_!” Gabrielle gasped, “She’s so… _tiny_! How is she even _taking_ that monster?”

Harry _pushed_ Hermione’s ass up in the air and her twat _dragged_ up as well along his cock, leaving a trail of arousal behind. Hermione _squealed_ in pleasure and then Harry _pulled_ her ass down on his cock again. Her ass _smashed_ into his springy balls and Hermione squealed again.

And then a series of squeals and moans tumbled out of her as Harry started _pushing_ and _pulling_ her ass up and down his cock, manhandling her as if she weighed nothing. Her cunt _scraped_ around his cock, and seemed to be _drooling_ around his cock.

“It… It’s starting up… HARRY!” Hermione screamed as she started twitching spasmodically.

“She’s cumming,” Ginny moaned as Gabrielle absently pushed up against her inner walls. The half-veela herself was just _gaping_ at the sight of Harry’s monstrous shaft spearing into the brunette’s twat as it dribbled pussy juices all over the place.

Hermione was licking and moaning all over Harry’s face, even as he worked her up and down on his cock like a puppet. But her hands were coming off his neck and her torso arched back – the Head Girl was obviously cumming too hard to maintain her grip.

So Harry plopped down on the bed and lay on it. Hermione was now squatting over his cock with her legs bent double so that her feet were on his thighs behind her. Harry kept his hands tight on Hermione’s ass as he continued using the Head Girl like a flesh light, _fucking_ her onto his penis. Gabrielle wished it was _her_ twat that monster was burying into and that it was _her_ shuddering on top of his mid-section, but she comforted herself with the notion that this was Granger’s last time with _her_ mate.

“Oh Merlin, I wish I could suck on those balls now,” Ginny moaned. Gabrielle just grinned – Harry’s balls _did_ look juicy.

“Even with Granger riding him?” she asked.

“YES!” Ginny screamed as Gabrielle started stroking in and out of her even faster, making an incredibly dirty sound, “I’D SUCK HER OFF TOO!”

“Such a submissive little _slut_ ,” Gabrielle said, “Hermione would _never_ allow it though.”

“No,” Ginny gasped, “But _you_ would.”

Gabrielle’s grin grew wider. “Oh, you’d lick my cunt while I ride your boyfriend’s fat cock, will you?” she asked huskily.

“YES!” Ginny screamed again.

Gabrielle nibbled at Ginny’s earlobe playfully as she continued to finger the redhead’s pussy and rub against Ginny’s pillowy rear end.

Hermione arched her back on the screen as she screamed, “HARREEEEEE… STILL CUMMING! PLEASE… REST!”

Gabrielle laughed derisively. “ _Salope_ ,” she muttered, “She has no idea what to do with that cock.”

Harry _pulled_ the Head Girl off his cock, her cunt lips _struggling_ to free themselves of his slick shaft. Hermione kept twitching at intervals as her pussy seemed to _gush_ liquids at a phenomenal rate, even as she tumbled off his cock on her side.

But Harry did not intend to leave his cock unattended. Just as Hermione landed on the bed, he _pulled_ on her head and shoved it against his cock. Hermione squealed as Harry turned his hips and angled his cock _straight_ into her mouth. The Head Girl opened her mouth obediently and let him _stuff_ his crown into her mouth. Harry started _pushing_ his hips back and forth, ramming a quarter of his enormous shaft in and out of the Head Girl’s hot mouth. He brushed her hair away so that Hermione’s entire face was visible to the orb with his cock _splitting_ her mouth apart.

“ _Head_ Girl indeed!” Harry crowed and laughed, “You give _amazing_ head!”

Hermione just shuddered and screamed, “MMMMFFFFFF NNNNFFFFF NFFFFFF!” around his cock. Gabrielle laughed at that.

“Look at her _take_ that!” Ginny squealed. Gabrielle was _slightly_ annoyed – she had _never_ given Harry a blowjob before. Harry was _using_ the Head Girl’s mouth, _fucking_ his cock in and out of it.

“Enough,” Harry said after several minutes of ramming Hermione’s trap and shifted on the bed so that he was lying _behind_ Hermione, both of them on their sides so that Harry was spooning Hermione. Hermione’s petite body was right in front of the camera, but it did not quite manage to hide Harry’s muscled torso behind her. Harry lifted Hermione’s thigh into the air and pushed it against her side in an amazing show of flexibility from the Head Girl. Her legs were _wide_ apart now, displaying her tight, gushing cunt for all to see.

“You _bastard_ ,” Hermione moaned, “I haven’t stopped _cumming_ yet.”

Harry just angled his cock up into her twat and with a _twist_ of his hips _burst_ into her pussy again. Harry extended his arm around the thigh that was pressed up her side and _around_ Hermione’s breasts so that he was _hugging_ the brunette to him. He curled his other hand around Hermione’s tiny neck, so that her breasts were squashed between his hands, her thigh and the bed. And then Harry just held Hermione in place as he started _slamming_ his cock in and out of her twat, his balls _slapping_ against her quivering cunt.

“BASTARD!” Hermione _screamed_ and the scream continued to taper off into a high-pitched whine, “HNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!”

“She can’t stop _cumming_!” Ginny moaned. Gabrielle gaped at the sight – but it was the _sound_ that was getting to her. As Harry’s cock speared in and out of Hermione’s impossibly tight quim, she heard this _scraping_ sound, like Harry was trying to _stuff_ his cock into a _tiny_ sleeve made of wet fabric – it was _erotic_.

Gabrielle couldn’t take it anymore. She _lifted_ Ginny up and _sank_ the redhead down onto her slender tubular clitoris… her _stamen_. Both girls _moaned_.

“How are you still so _tight_?” Gabrielle gasped, “Harry should have _destroyed_ your cunt by now with his monster!”

Ginny just rocked back and forth on Gabrielle, moaning and still gaping at the screen. “ _Fuck_!” the redhead gasped, “Harry’s _really_ giving it to her!”

Gabrielle just started palming Ginny’s massive tits, _pulling_ at her nipples as she lapped at Ginny’s right cheek. Harry had _doubled_ his pace – he was _pulverizing_ Hermione’s tiny pussy now. The Head Girl wouldn’t be able to _walk_ the next day, in Gabrielle’s estimation. Gabrielle started grinding into Ginny now, feeling the redhead’s walls contracting around her stamen.

Hermione’s face was scrunched up now – her eyes unseeing and wild and her mouth gaping and _screaming_ as Harry continued to pound her. Gabrielle could _hear_ her pussy sloshing now, wet and tight around Harry’s fat meat as his balls slapped onto her clit.

And suddenly, Harry sat _up_ on the bed, moving the Head Girl up _with_ him, still impaled on his cock. Hermione’s hands and legs scrambled for purchase on the bed as she shrieked in surprise – she was sitting on his balls now with his cock shoved _deep_ inside her womb. Now though, she was facing _them_ , with her back to Harry’s face. All Gabrielle could see was Hermione’s beautiful face contorting in pleasure as a _massive_ penis _dug_ into her cunt, splitting her hairless twat wide open. Hermione’s nipples were erect and her breasts bounce as she _desperately_ tried to continue riding Harry.

And Harry raised her ass up into the air. With Hermione squatting on the bed slightly above his midriff with about half his slick cock up her cunt, held in place mostly by Harry’s powerful grip, he started pounding _up_ into the Head Girl. She was _literally_ along for the ride now, squatting on top of him as he slammed _up_ into her.

“RUINING MY CUNNY, HARRY! YOU’RE RUINING MY TINY LITTLE CUNNY!” Hermione screamed.

Gabrielle _tried_ to mimic Harry’s movements, pounding up into Ginny who was sitting on her lap, but the redhead was too heavy. “This is all your fault, Ginny,” Gabrielle panted, “You’re letting your boyfriend _destroy_ another woman.”

“Yes,” Ginny moaned, still not taking her eyes off the erotic sight on the screen, “Hermione looks _gorgeous_.”

The Head Girl was _indeed_ gorgeous, even in Gabrielle’s envious eyes – with that flushed face, frazzled hair and slender physique, bouncing around over Harry’s engorged shaft.

“HAREEEEE!” Hermione screamed, her eyes widening as Harry’s shaft continued to _scrape_ her insides, “SOMETHING… HAPPENING! I… CAN’T… CUMMING TOO HARD!”

“YES!” Ginny screamed, “ _Fuck_ her!”

“OH SWEET MOTHER OF… HNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!” Hermione screamed, reaching her highest pitch yet and there was a _deafening_ squelch and Hermione’s pussy _erupted_. A fountain seemed to burst forth _around_ Harry’s fat cock, spraying over his balls. The brunette continued to scream as _more_ fountains gushed forth, ejecting _jets_ of fluid all over the bed, and then over the _orb_ itself. The image _blurred_ as Hermione’s pussy juices landed on the orb with a loud _splat_ , after which the self-cleaning charms kicked in and the image cleared yet again, revealing a bewildered, spasming Hermione Granger writhing around Harry’s cock.

“W-W-WHAT’SH HAPPENINNNNNNNNNNG?” the Head Girl screamed, “AAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHH!”

Both Gabrielle and Ginny stopped grinding into each other as they _gaped_ at the screen. “She’s… squirting,” Gabrielle whispered in terrified arousal.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Ginny gasped, “I don’t think she’s ever… done that… before.”

“She _told_ you that?” Gabrielle asked, not looking away from the screen as Hermione let out _another_ series of screams and squirts.

“YOU BROKE IT!” Hermione screamed stupidly as she squirt noisily again, _around_ Harry’s cock, her eyes rolling up into her head, “YOU’RE BREAKING MY CUNT!”

Gabrielle heard Harry laughing at that, but she was too absorbed in the sight to even _register_ Hermione’s words.

“She… she… told… me… she… _never_ …” Ginny moaned.

Gabrielle numbly murmured, “We have to stop this… stop this… before…”

And then she saw Harry’s balls contract and _pulse_. His cock swelled and recoiled.

“’Mione!” Harry groaned as he unloaded _right_ into Hermione’s spasming cunt.

Hermione _collapsed_ back onto Harry’s chest. Gabrielle could see her dripping cunt shuddering around Harry’s girth now, even as droplets of Harry’s sperm leaked out from her gaping twat. She couldn’t actually see their faces – just the sight of Harry’s incredibly thick cockmeat pulsing into Hermione’s vagina.

Ginny _spasmed_ around Gabrielle’s stamen at that moment as she turned her face sideways and _kissed_ Gabrielle on the lips. Gabrielle kissed her right back, then drew away with a surprised gasp.

“You… _came_?” Gabrielle asked, stupefied, “You came watching your boyfriend diddle _Granger_?”

Ginny blushed as she looked away and back at the screen. She ground herself on Gabrielle as she gasped out, “I… guess… I’m just turned on at the sight of Harry with another… woman.”

Gabrielle was taken aback by this entire turn of events – that had been _intense_. She had no doubt she was finally part of Harry’s harem, but apparently, she had done her job _too_ well. Ginny was turning out to be far more submissive than she had previously thought.

“You can watch Harry and I go at it whenever you want,” Gabrielle said cheekily, trying to cover up her dismay, “At least this is Granger’s last time.”

And just then, she heard Harry murmur, “I should leave, Hermione.”

 _Yes_ , Gabrielle thought, _leave_. _Please_.

“No,” Hermione panted, “Please. Don’t go.”

Harry pushed Hermione off him onto the bed, his cock _popping_ out of Hermione’s sloshing, cum-filled quim as he made to get up. Hermione turned to her side and extended an arm around him.

“I love you,” the brunette said, as firmly as she could, trying to come down from her orgasmic bliss.

Harry was now sitting up on the bed, but he turned to face the prone Hermione and gaped at her.

“I mean it,” Hermione repeated, “I love you.”

Harry looked at the orb with bewildered eyes. Ginny gasped in shock as Gabrielle continued to gawk at the screen. Her throat suddenly felt dry and the blood seemed to pound in her temples. The world went _very_ quiet.

“Hermione… I… Ron…” Harry stammered.

Hermione laughed shrilly and then coughed as she ran out of breath. “Ron and I split up during Christmas, Harry.”

“What?” Harry asked, stupefied.

“Ron called me over for Christmas and we discussed our relationship. It was going nowhere,” Hermione said, her voice slowly gaining strength as she went on.

“Was it… was it because of me?” Harry asked, though his face strangely showed no guilt – just curiosity.

“No,” Hermione said, “ _You_ started becoming the only reason Ron and I were together. You are more of a fixture in his life than _I_ am.” There was no bitterness in the Head Girl’s voice, just a weird happiness.

“Ron has his eye on Vicky Frobisher now,” Hermione continued, “Won’t be long before he asks you to… you know… like I said, _you_ are a fixture in his life now.”

“I see,” Harry said smoothly. His eyes glinted.

“And _I_ realized I want to be with you. I’ve _always_ wanted to be with you,” Hermione murmured.

Harry’s eyes softened and turned warm. “Even if you have to share me?” he asked.

“Do you _love_ me, Harry?” Hermione asked in return.

“I do,” Harry said softly.

Hermione sighed happily as she rose up gingerly on the bed and placed her head on Harry’s shoulder, hugging him as they sat side by side, completely naked. Harry hugged her right back.

Hermione _smirked_ at him. “Then I’d better be on top of your harem, Potter,” she said, “Because I’m _never_ leaving you. _Ever_.”

Harry just grinned back, and they both tumbled back onto the bed, snuggling into each other and kissing.

“Wait,” Harry said suddenly, drawing apart from Hermione, “So… uh… why’s the orb recording all of this? How did you even _get_ an orb?”

Hermione half-giggled, half-panted. “It’s actually a present for you,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him, “From George Weasley to his stakeholder.”

“So he entrusted it in your care?” Harry asked curiously.

“Yes,” Hermione said airily, “He mentioned that he wanted to give this to you for Christmas but missed out on that opportunity. So I just said I’d carry it back and give it to you.”

“So… uh… that’s why you were recording this?” Harry asked, “I mean… I’m guessing Ron’s not at the other end watching this… because that would be…”

Hermione shuddered. “Please,” she muttered, “Let’s not spoil the afterglow. No, Ron isn’t watching at the other end. But _someone_ is.”

She had an edge to her voice when she uttered the last sentence.

“Dare I even ask who?” Harry asked warily, “Is it still recording?”

“Oh, it _is_ still recording,” Hermione asked, “Your change of status… _our_ change of status is _very_ relevant to the audience.”

“And just who is the audience?” Harry asked slowly.

“Oh, just your girlfriend,” Hermione said.

Harry just gaped at Hermione, but the Head Girl chose that very moment to collapse and fall asleep.

***

“BITCH!” Ginny screamed, “THE HORRID, LITTLE… LYING SKANK!”

Gabrielle _fumed_. She pushed Ginny off her, rose onto her knees, grabbed her wand and waved it at the screen. The silver screen went dark and the broadcast ceased.

She turned to face Ginny, her eyes blazing.

Ginny shrank immediately, her temper lessening as she beheld Gabrielle’s fierce countenance.

“Gabrielle… I…” Ginny said hesitantly, “I didn’t know that she would…”

“I don’t blame you,” Gabrielle said, though she _was_ angry at Ginny, “Well… not entirely. She _played_ you. She played _us_.”

Suddenly, Gabrielle’s victory over Hermione Granger in the dueling tournament seemed utterly hollow – she had won a skirmish in what was going to be a _very_ long war.

“I… I can talk to Harry,” Ginny started, but Gabrielle cut her off.

“No,” the half-veela said immediately, facing Ginny, “You will do nothing of the sort. If Harry says Hermione is part of our circle now, she _is_. We’re not second-guessing him.”

“But…” Ginny started but Gabrielle interrupted her.

“She has a disadvantage,” the half-veela said, “She’s one woman. There are _two_ of us on this side of the ring.”

Gabrielle smiled and continued, “Don’t worry, Gin-Gin. We can still come out on top. Either way, you better get used to the idea of sharing your boyfriend with Hermione. There are four people in the relationship now.

“But we’ll still come out on top. _I_ will come out on top. I am veela. I _never_ settle for second place in the heart of the man I choose to be with.”

“So… Hermione is… now… with Harry?” Ginny asked.

Gabrielle smiled at the redhead. “Yes,” she said, “For better or worse. But like I said, _she_ is going to have to settle for second place.”

***


	12. Chapter 12

“So…” Natalie asked, “Uh… how many girls is he going out with now?”

“Natalie,” Harry said tiredly, “I’m right here.”

“I’m still ready to jump in,” Demelza said.

“Me too,” Nandini added quickly.

Harry sighed. They were sitting at the breakfast table – he had smuggled himself out of the Head Girl’s dorm in the early hours of the morning. He had tried waking Hermione, but she had been sleeping like a log. The only problem was – he had not been as discrete as he had hoped. Mary MacDonald had caught him walking out and had given him detention, though there _had_ been a smirk on her face when she did so. And to make things even worse, Natalie had been present as MacDonald had interrogated him in the Common Room about his “activities” in the Head Girl’s dorm. And, much to his consternation, he had _completely_ forgotten about a Silencing Charm and so had Hermione.

And so, MacDonald had heard _everything_ – something she seemed to take great pleasure in describing in front of an open-mouthed Natalie and an embarrassed Harry. He supposed Hermione was in for a chewing out as well, if she ever got up.

“Why were you even _in_ the Common Room?” Harry asked sourly.

“I… uh…” Natalie stammered.

“She totally forgot to do her Charms homework, again,” Nandini said with a grin, “That’s our Natalie – doing her homework at the last minute.” Natalie just stuck her tongue out at the dusky girl.

“So,” Demelza asked, “You think MacDonald’s going to jump Harry in detention?”

“Oh, shut up,” Harry said and blearily looked around for Ginny or Gabrielle, but the two were nowhere to be found. He had no idea how they would take this entire thing, and was quite alarmed when he realized he did not _care_.

“Oh, they had breakfast early and left,” Demelza said, sidling up to him, “Said they had to ‘have a talk’ with the Head Girl.”

“Uh, oh,” Natalie said in a sing-song voice.

And just then, Demelza started kissing around his neck as he tried to eat.

“What the… _fuck_?” Natalie asked, completely taken aback, “How _many_ of you are _with_ him?!”

Nandini leaned in on the opposite side and started trailing soft kisses down his neck as well. Harry just sighed as Natalie looked on open-mouthed. He raised his fork to get a morsel in before either Nandini or Demelza tried to take this further right at the breakfast table, but he was interrupted again, this time by an owl.

He shrugged both girls off, and they tittered. He then proceeded to untie a note from the grey post-owl that had just landed on his table – he had never seen the owl before.

The letter was from Audrey. He frowned and opened it.

_Hi Harry,_

_Aberforth is back, earlier than expected. He was pestering me about my rent yesterday, and said that the Hog’s Head wouldn’t be open for some time yet, but I thought you should know._

_You owe me a good fucking._

_Love,  
Audrey_

Harry chuckled at the last sentence and looked at his schedule – he only had Charms that afternoon. He still had quite some time to go for the class. If he hurried, he could make it to Hogsmeade and back before the class started.

Harry stood up abruptly, said goodbye to the bewildered girls and made his way to his dorm to retrieve his cloak; then, he would make his way to the third floor to a certain statue of a one-eyed witch.

***

Harry ignored the “CLOSED” sign hanging on the front door of the Hog’s Head Inn and opened it, stepping right into the gloomy interior of the pub.

“It’s closed,” a snide voice snarled at him.

Sure enough, behind the bar, looking as unkempt as ever was Aberforth Dumbledore, brother of his former Headmaster. He was… cleaning a glass with a cloth that looked like it had been soaked in dragon piss. Harry sighed – some things never changed.

“Even for me?” Harry asked.

Aberforth looked up and saw Harry. “Ah, of course,” he said, his voice not losing its snide edge, “It’s Harry Potter, hero and savior of the world. How may I be of service, Potter?”

Harry walked up to the pub casually. “I needed to talk to you,” he said, dusting off the seat of one of the barstools. He sat on it after making sure that it was clean.

“Come back in March,” Aberforth said, “The bar’ll be open and I’ll be all ears.”

“It’s not something that can wait,” Harry said coldly.

“If you’re here to ask me about my brother, or discuss our shared past,” Aberforth said equally coldly, “Don’t. Don’t you _dare_ , Potter.”

“Oh, I’m not here to bring up old grudges,” Harry said dismissively, “But I _am_ here to discuss a certain portion of your shared past.”

Harry saw Aberforth opening his mouth to reply angrily, but he stalled the bartender, “No. It’s not what you think,” Harry said, gesturing in the direction of Ariana Dumbledore’s portrait, “I’m not here to discuss that. I’m here to discuss more… recent events.”

“Do I look like I _care_ to answer your questions, Potter?” Aberforth asked.

The air crackled as Harry summoned the Elder Wand out of thin air and brandished it in front of the older man. Aberforth’s eyes widened in surprise, and he recoiled.

“What… how…?” he stammered.

Harry gestured his wand around the room and cast every single secrecy charm and silencing spell he knew. Aberforth just watched him open-mouthed as he cast his protective enchantments.

Finally, Harry stopped casting and turned to the barkeep. “Do I have your attention now?” he asked.

“Yes,” Aberforth gasped, “He… he told me its power would die with him.”

“Dumbledore meant to keep his promise,” Harry said, “He meant to die with the wand in his hand – I suppose he surmised that if his murderer did not _actually_ want to murder him and that he _wanted_ to die, the wand would lose its power.”

Aberforth did not take his eyes off the wand in Harry’s hand, but he asked, “So… Severus…?”

“… Killed Dumbledore,” Harry finished, “But he was only following Albus’ orders.”

Aberforth finally took his eyes off the wand and peered at Harry. “I see,” Aberforth said, “In retrospect, I should not be so surprised. He always was a manipulative old coot.”

“He was,” Harry admitted, “But he’s also the reason I’m alive.”

The Elder Wand disappeared from sight at Harry’s command and Aberforth seemed to relax.

“I _hate_ that piece of wood,” the old man muttered in distaste as he lowered his gaze to the glass in his hand, “I _loathe_ the fact that my brother left it under my protection. It… it was the wand that took the only thing I ever cared about from this world.”

“I’m sorry to bring it up,” Harry said, “But I’m a bit desperate. And it was the only way I could convince you to help me.”

Aberforth looked up at him and grinned in humorless fashion. “It’s affecting your mind already, is it not?” he asked.

Harry leaned back on the stool and crossed his arms. “So, you know how the wand affects its owners,” he said.

“Of course I do,” Abeforth said, “We studied that accursed Deathstick for _decades_ , Potter. My brother and I… we _scoured_ tomes for knowledge of how to control it… or in my case, destroy it once and for all. Nothing we tried worked. Nothing _I_ tried worked either – it’s simply too powerful to be destroyed.”

“And what about control?” Harry asked.

“My brother never got around to using it until a year before his death,” Aberforth said, “The only way to control that damn wand is to _never use it_. My brother knew the effect it had on people… once he deprived Grindelwald of it, he immediately came to me and we devised a Fidelius Charm for keeping it from ever being used.”

Harry nodded. He knew all of this already. “But he came to you… before he died,” he supplied.

“Yes,” Aberforth continued, “He popped in here one morning – during the summer – with a charred hand and told me he was dying. That he needed the Elder Wand so that it could… die… with him.

“I guess that did not work as he intended.”

“It almost did,” Harry said with a sigh, “But there was a wrinkle in his plan. Before Severus Snape could… kill your brother, Draco Malfoy - one of the students at Hogwarts who was working for Death Eaters – disarmed him.”

“So the wand passed on to the Malfoy boy,” Aberforth gasped and shuddered.

“He never realized it though,” Harry said, “Malfoy never even figured he owned something like this. I suppose Dumbledore was right – you _have_ to use the wand _before_ it recognizes you as its owner.”

“And you disarmed Malfoy?” Aberforth asked.

“I did… during our escape… thanks to you,” Harry said.

Aberforth waved him off. “So the wand came to you,” the old man said, “Only, you were unaware of its power and used it to cast magic.”

Harry sighed. “Yes… the circumstances of its capture are… complicated, but yes, I used it.”

“And now it’s affecting you,” Aberforth said shrewdly.

“Yes,” Harry said, “I… I think I’m slowly losing my capacity for… any sort of higher emotion. I feel like they’ve been cut off – I feel… _angry_ … all the time… or apathetic. Like there’s this monster inside me, clawing to get out. It’s like I’m turning into this chained beast… only, the chains are growing more and more fragile as time passes.”

Harry paused and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he continued, “I’m rambling. But I _need_ to know. Do you know of a way I could control it? If we placed it under a Fidelius Charm right now, would its effects be suppressed?”

Aberforth sighed. “I’m afraid not, Potter,” he said, “In the last year of his life, when my brother began using this wand, he complained of the same effects. According to him, the wand was making him reckless. It took a regimen of potions to keep him alive and sane – and my brother was a _prodigious_ Occlumens. So we tried to put it back under a Fidelius Charm – my brother wanted to see if that would shield him from its effects for a while.

“It did not. My brother was still affected – the influence of the Elder Wand cut through the most powerful charm in existence like it wasn’t even _there_. Once the wand _knows_ , Potter, it is relentless.”

Harry massaged his forehead with his hands. “I see,” he said, “Is there _anything_ you can do? Or tell me?”

“Afraid not, Potter,” Aberforth said, though his voice was completely devoid of pity, “And frankly, I’d rather not have _anything_ to do with that damn wand ever again.”

“Aberforth,” Harry said with closed eyes, as he kept massaging his forehead, “I’m not going to keep this wand forever. I know it, and you know it. Day after day, I feel myself… devolving. Becoming _primal_ – more bestial. I feel the blood pounding in my ears, _calling_ for battle and violence. I feel… less than human. And some day, a powerful wizard… or witch… is going to take this wand from me. Perhaps in combat. Perhaps by merely snatching it from my hands. Perhaps by slitting my throat in my sleep. The pieces are all in place – a clever wizard would surmise that Dumbledore was the last owner of the Elder Wand, and that his natural successor would be _me_.

“The point being – someday, _someone_ is going to take this wand from me and they _are_ going to use it to wreak utter havoc. Look at every wizard or witch that has possessed this wand – apart from Dumbledore, every single one of them has used this wand to destroy the lives of _hundreds_ of people.

“Is that the sort of fate you’re consigning me to?”

Harry opened his eyes and looked straight at Aberforth. “Someday, another aspiring Dark Lord is going to pry this wand from my cold, dead fingers and use it to take innocent lives. Is that what you want?”

Aberforth sighed and looked away – Harry _knew_ he was looking in Ariana’s direction.

“Charming speech,” he said, “But I’m afraid my answer is unchanged. I _cannot_ help you.”

Harry flushed and opened his mouth to argue, but Aberforth held out his own hand and said, “However… I _can_ lend a hand. Stay right there, Potter.”

The old man then shambled his way out of the room. Harry heard thumping, as if Aberforth was going up a flight of steps. Harry tapped his fingers on the bar impatiently, waiting for the man to return.

After five minutes, the old man came back down and handed Harry a slim book with a blank, silver cover.

“This is a journal written by my brother – the entirety of his research on the Elder Wand,” Aberforth said wearily, “He entrusted it to me. He said the very _cream_ of his research… our research… on the subject of the Elder Wand was all contained in that book.”

“I see,” Harry said, though he could not keep a hopeful note from his voice.

“However, I should warn you that the book does _not_ detail a method to control the power of that wand,” Aberforth said, “Albus _never_ found a way to control that thing. But… if it gives you comfort, Potter, you can have it. I suspect you’d value it more than I do, in any case.”

Harry nodded. “Thanks,” he rasped, and then proceeded to leave the Inn.

***

“So,” Gabrielle asked delicately, “Why did you summon us here, Granger?”

She, Ginny and Hermione were all assembled in the Head Girl’s dorm – Hermione had sent them a note by way of Crookshanks at breakfast, asking them to come to her room to “talk things over.” Of course, Gabrielle had been reluctant, but Ginny had dragged her along in any case.

“Please,” the Head Girl said tiredly, “Call me Hermione, Gabrielle. And I would’ve met you elsewhere, but I don’t think I can _move_. My legs have never felt so sore.”

Gabrielle inclined her head. “Very well… _Hermione_ ,” she said, “Answer the question.”

Ginny looked between her and Hermione warily.

Hermione turned to Ginny and said, her eyes warm and apologetic, “Ginny, I never meant to hurt you yesterday.”

Ginny’s eyes widened momentarily, but then she pursed her lips and looked at Hermione with disapproval. “You lied to me,” the redhead said in a hurt voice, “I… you’re my friend.”

“Ginny,” Hermione said hastily, “I… I _love_ Harry. Just as _you_ do. I couldn’t give him up without a fight.”

Ginny tried to reply, but Hermione cut her off. “However,” the Head Girl ground out, “That doesn’t mean lying to you was the right thing to do. I had to choose between the easy way and the hard way, and I chose the easy path. And I apologize – I’m _really_ sorry. I was just a bit… miffed, last night. And wanted revenge so bad… I forgot our friendship.

“But I _promise_ I’m not trying to sabotage your relationship with Harry,” Hermione said sincerely, “I _promise_ I’m not trying to usurp your position, or take your place. Nonetheless, I’m _not_ letting go of him. I should have talked this over with you and _then_ made a move… but I was so scared you’d refuse. And worse, I tried to humiliate you in the process. But now that I’ve got him, and now that I know how… amazing he is… I guess I just realized you didn’t deserve that. I’m _really_ sorry.”

Ginny and Hermione stared at each other for a while and then the redhead sighed. “I guess I always knew this was a possibility,” Ginny said wistfully, “I know I’m not enough… to handle him. I’d rather it was just me, but if I had to share him with someone, I’d rather it be you and Gabrielle.”

The two girls smiled at each other. “Plus,” Ginny said, her smile turning shrewd, “I like watching you going at it with Harry.”

Hermione blushed. “I’m sorry you… watched it at all,” she said, “I guess I was being a bit impulsive when I gave you that screen.”

“Don’t be,” Ginny said airily, “Gabrielle and I sure enjoyed watching you with Harry. Next time, I’ll even join in.”

Hermione flushed an even deeper shade of red and stammered, “I, uh, don’t think I’m ready for something like… that. And I don’t swing that way, Ginny. Like… at _all_.”

Ginny just giggled.

“Wait,” Gabrielle said, slightly taken aback at the renewed camaraderie between Ginny and Hermione.

Hermione sighed and turned to look at her. “Gabrielle,” she said, “I know you like Harry…”

“I _love_ him,” Gabrielle snarled.

“Of course,” Hermione said in placating fashion, “But does _he_ love _you_?”

Gabrielle gaped at Hermione. “I…” she stammered, and just like that, her old insecurities were back again. Harry had _freed_ her and made her _addicted_ to his magic – she _wanted_ him. _Needed_ him. _Craved_ him. But now, she was entirely stumped by Hermione’s question.

“I didn’t mean to put you on the spot,” Hermione said kindly, “I’ve seen how Harry looks at you Gabby. He’s… passionate about you. He _definitely_ likes you. And you _probably_ have great physical chemistry with him, being a veela and all. And I’m sure he _will_ come to love you in the future. You’re very beautiful. And a fierce dueler, as I learned to my detriment yesterday.”

“Wait,” Gabrielle said, “Why are you telling me all of this, Hermione? Why placate me at all?”

“Harry _wants_ to be with you,” Hermione said.

“Not what I meant,” Gabrielle said, “Why are you trying to be so… _diplomatic_? You seemed pretty happy shoving your little session with Harry in my face yesterday.”

Hermione lowered her gaze. “Again,” she said tiredly, “I’m _really_ sorry about that. Yesterday, I had lost a duel to you, and was on the verge of losing Harry… because you had asked Ginny to stop him and me from…

“But now that I’m _with_ him, I guess my perspective has changed. Even _if_ Ginny had forbade me from ever… being… with Harry again, Harry would not have stopped loving me. Or I, him. Again, I _should_ have talked this over with you – _both_ of you – before I did any of this.”

“That’s Hermione for you,” Ginny said abruptly, “She just… _does_ this stuff. Don’t let the geeky exterior fool you – once, she suspected that Harry’s broomstick was cursed and went straight to McGonagall without even talking it over with Harry. She just… rushes into things. And then regrets it and cries all over the place.”

“I _so_ did not cry all over the place,” Hermione said hotly, but Ginny just stuck out a tongue at her and Hermione giggled. “I’ll get you for that, Ginny,” Hermione said good-naturedly.

The brunette then turned to Gabrielle and said, “Gabrielle, I’m just trying to call a truce here. We’re _all_ with Harry now. Let’s just stop… fighting. There’s plenty of him to go around… _too much_ of him, to be honest.”

“I agree with that,” Ginny added.

“So,” Hermione said, “Let’s just be friends with each other.”

Gabrielle stared at Hermione, pondering her words.

Hermione continued, “Look, Gabrielle, the thing is… I’ve realized that I… like you. You stand for _everything_ I actually cherish as an ideal. You’re a part-veela, and you’re proud of your heritage. Your presence in the tournament is causing waves among the pureblood morons that infest every level of our government. You’ve become a symbol for the rights of _all_ sentient magical beings – something that I _deeply_ admire. I _like_ you, Gabrielle, and I _know_ we can be friends.”

Gabrielle’s cold demeanor finally broke at that little speech. “I suppose I _could_ be friends with you,” Gabrielle said eventually, and Hermione smiled at her in relief. “I… sort of admire you too, Hermione. You’re possibly the only person around that I can actually debate Runes and Magical Theory with.”

“Are you calling me a dunce?” Ginny asked, though she was smiling.

“Of course not, love,” Gabrielle said, “But you’re still pants at Runes.”

Ginny grinned. “I guess I am,” she said.

“So…” Hermione asked, “We’re in this together?”

“Of course,” Ginny said.

Gabrielle nodded. Then, after a beat, she grinned at Hermione. “I’ve always liked a healthy competition better than a bitter one anyway,” she said.

Hermione grinned right back. “Oh, I’m not going to be deluding myself Gabrielle,” she said, “But for now, I’m on top of this little harem…”

“We’ll see, Hermione,” Gabrielle said, “In time, we shall see.”

Hermione stuck out her hand. Gabrielle walked up to the bed and shook it. Ginny laughed. And for some strange reason, Gabrielle could not stop herself from smiling happily at how things had turned out.

***

Harry barely made it through classes that day – he pored over Dumbledore’s book throughout the day, even managing to sneak in a few pages during Charms class. He had bought a stack of Pepper-ups at the local apothecary in Hogsmeade, and drowned one vial after another as he read each page of the book at a feverish pace. He dimly realized that his friends… and girlfriends, might be searching for him, but at that particular moment, he could not bring himself to care.

And that _scared_ him. His higher thought processes were still intact, but he was losing sight of the emotions he once cherished. Love, affection, compassion, humility – all of them were slowly eroding away within him. It was not so much that he was letting go of them so much as it was the fact that they were becoming _muted_.

Only last night, Hermione had asked him if he loved her. And the truth was, only a month ago, he _did_. He _did_ cherish the beautiful Head Girl – she had stuck with him through thick and thin, even when Ron had abandoned him. She cared for him. But more than that, she stood for _everything_ that he believed was good – she was his center of morality. After his years of abuse at the hands of the Dursleys, being friends with _Hermione_ was what kept him centered about the _concept_ of moral goodness and evil. It could so easily have gone the other way had he fallen in with the Malfoys. Granted, she did take the nobility thing too far sometimes – in the sense that she did not _want_ to believe the worst of people. And a lesser person would have turned after the horrors Lestrange inflicted on her, but _Hermione_ did not. She could be a little vengeful, a little insecure and a little vexing at times, but for him, most of the time, she was _always_ there. And when she had asked him if he loved her… he should have said yes without a moment’s hesitation. Only a month ago, he _would_ have. And it was a testament to his love for her, that despite the muting effect of the Elder Wand, he had felt an _inkling_ of affection for her. He _had_ said “yes” at the end, and he could not even bring himself to feel guilt.

And then there was Ginny. When Hermione had told him his girlfriend had been watching at the other end, Harry had been surprised… but all he felt was utter apathy. _He_ had been sated, and that was all he cared about. And he _knew_ he had loved Ginny… he knew he _still_ should have, but even that was muted. The redhead was _his_ – fierce, yet _always_ at his side, faithful to the end. Adapting to circumstances with him, flowing like water around his headstrong current.

And last, there was Gabrielle. He _did_ feel something for her – but now, his feelings had been reduced to mere _lust_. Each time he saw the veela, he wanted to _ravish_ her, _ruin_ her, push her up against a wall and _fuck_ her. And dipping into _that_ side was just so… easy. So tempting.

All of that scared him – he now recognized _exactly_ what the three girls stood for now. Hermione was transcendence – something he _yearned_ for and something that _drew_ him… something _beyond_ this world of simple, binary good and evil.

 _The Resurrection Stone_.

Ginny was loyalty made flesh, serving him to the end. Adapting, flowing, meshing into his life seamlessly.

 _The Invisibility Cloak_.

And Gabrielle was passion, lust, a _thirst_ that _must_ be quenched. Something that stoked his blood, made it _boil_.

 _The Elder Wand_.

He truly could not tell where the Hallows ended and he began. He was _melding_ into them, turning and twisting and reforming. He was being _destroyed_. Torn apart. Just like Dumbledore had told him.

So Harry did the only thing he could – he avoided the girls and found an isolated corner of Hogwarts, on the sixth floor in an abandoned classroom with a powerful Notice Me Not Charm cast around him. He turned page after page, seeking answers and searching for a solution to his dilemma.

But Aberforth had been right – there was _nothing_ there. Dumbledore had barely even mentioned the three hallows – possibly a good idea, as far as the Headmaster was concerned. All any potential reader would see were research notes revolving around a mysterious subject that the Headmaster did not see fit to disclose.

And there were _copious_ notes on wandmaking processes – every single step that went into making a wand, from different nations and cultures, was described and elaborated upon. Potions were discussed, means of muting magic through charms and runes were debated and elaborate curses were dissected, but after _each_ possible solution, Dumbledore had written down a single word – “Failed.”

For the first time, Harry truly saw evidence of prodigious intellect his former Headmaster had possessed. The sheer amount of Arithmancy discussed in the book was _far_ beyond _Hermione_ , let alone him. And as the diary went on, the notes grew more and more meandering – the last entry was dated two days prior to Dumbledore’s death. Apparently, the old man had been taking potions – powerful, highly advanced concoctions to keep the influence of the Elder Wand at bay. But they were all marked with the same word – “Failed.”

By far the most interesting find was on the very last page of the book. It was a piece of an ancient parchment stuck to the last page of the book – it had apparently been extremely hard to find.

“Alas,” Dumbledore had written on the penultimate page, “It is a pity my life draws to an end in a world that still has such wonders to spare.”

For written on the parchment were a scant few words – in a language Harry vaguely recognized as Gaelic, or perhaps Old English. Dumbledore had painstaking translated each and every word. Apparently, according to his former Headmaster, it was the beginning of a letter. Below the ancient parchment, Dumbledore had written in his loopy handwriting:

 _“Myrddin_ ,

_There remains no hope for our weapon. Antioch is lost to us. Cadmus has embraced death. It was with a heavy heart that I take the last [unknown word]…”_

And the letter ended there. According to Dumbledore, that had been all he could recover of the ancient parchment – an alleged letter from Ignotus Peverell to _Merlin_ himself. A truly _remarkable_ find, in Harry’s opinion.

Apparently, the parchment had been torn off _just_ before the last unknown word had been completed. According to Dumbledore, it could have stood for several terms – from “ingredient” to “component” to “collection.”

Harry went back and forth through the book, re-reading passages and hoping to come upon something… _anything_ that could help him. He cast one revealing spell after another, hoping to try and discern if Dumbledore had left him yet another ridiculous riddle. It opens at the close… or _something_.

But there was nothing there. The book was just that – Dumbledore’s research on matters related to control of the Elder Wand… and futile research at that.

Harry slammed the book shut and stormed towards his dormitory. A range of emotions flickered through him – rage, frustration, annoyance… but he did not feel a _shred_ of self-pity. And again, that alarmed him.

He hit the bed as soon as he reached his dorm and the extended doses of Pepper Ups took their toll as he fell into a deep slumber.

***

When he woke up the next morning, he thought for a moment that he had woken up too late and had missed classes, but then he looked at the calendar hanging near Neville’s bed and realized it was a Hogsmeade weekend. Everyone had long since gone to Hogsmeade – it was nearly mid-day.

Harry slumped out of bed and blearily took a shower. He thought of going through the book again, but that thought merely led to _more_ frustration. So he eventually decided he would go to Hogsmeade and join his classmates – he would try to take his mind off his problems and _try_ to feel _something_ again.

And so, here he was, stomping around Hogsmeade and trying to find _someone_ to spend the day with.

After a few minutes of searching, he found Gabrielle and Ginny, loitering near a shop that sold expensive robes.

And Harry grit his teeth as he _felt_ again – only, it was a _massive_ spike of bloodlust. The Hallows were calling, and he _had_ to answer.

Dimly, as his vision turned red, he registered that Gabrielle had spotted him and was walking towards him with Ginny. She was a vision to behold – blonde hair shimmering in the daylight over a set of _tight_ , flowing robes that _stretched_ across her curvaceous figure. Ginny looked even _more_ ravishing, her amazing bust _begging_ to be kneaded and squeezed, bouncing with the wind.

And just as Gabrielle got within a few feet at him and opened her mouth to ask where he had been, he stepped _right_ into her personal space and grabbed her around the waist with one hand. With the other, he held Ginny’s hand and _pulled_ her in towards them. Then, there was a loud crack as they disapparated in the middle of Hogsmeade.

***

He _kissed_ Gabrielle, his tongue _swirling_ around in the veela’s own mouth, licking circles around her tongue and Gabrielle _moaned_ into him. He dropped his left hand from around the veela’s slender waist down to her ass, his fingers _sinking_ into her rump.

“Harry… what?” Ginny gasped, trying to wriggle out of Harry’s right hand that was curved around _her_ waist, pressing her to the kissing couple, “Where _are_ we?”

Harry started kneading Ginny’s amazing bubble butt as well and the redhead arched her back and squealed.

“Harry!” Ginny squeaked, pushing against his right shoulder, her breasts working wonders against the side of his chest that was not pressed into Gabrielle’s tits. He felt, rather than saw Ginny look around – he was too busy kissing Gabrielle and making the blonde moan as he _munched_ on the veela’s tongue, now protruding _right_ into his mouth. Loud slurping noises emanated from where their lips were joined.

“Harry!” Ginny shrieked, this time with alarm, right in his ear, “Are we in… are we in _Audrey’s_ bedroom?!”

Harry smirked as Gabrielle’s tongue surrendered before his onslaught. He _had_ apparated them to Audrey’s bedroom – it was the nearest secluded spot he could remember in his lust-fuelled haze. And Audrey came home late anyway… not that he _cared_ if Percy’s fiancée walked in at that particular moment. He _needed_ this. _Craved_ this. If Audrey walked in, he’d push _her_ down and _fuck_ her too.

He grabbed Gabrielle’s hair and _pulled_ her off his mouth. She stared up at him hungrily and he smirked.

“Audrey’s not here,” Harry said smoothly to Ginny, “And her big, soft bed is all vacant and empty. We’re going to fuck on top of it.”

Gabrielle giggled and Ginny blushed. Harry narrowed his eyes at Gabrielle and then smiled.

“Oh,” Harry said, finally turning to face his first proper girlfriend, “And Ginny, you’re going to be in charge of Gabrielle this time around.”

For a moment, the two girls merely stared at him, open mouthed. “Really?” Ginny asked breathlessly. Harry nodded.

Then Ginny smiled back at him mischievously. “So,” she asked, gesturing to the bed, “What are we waiting for?”

The busty redhead pushed Gabrielle out of the way and hugged Harry, kissing him in a purposely sloppy manner, slobbering all over his lips with her tongue. Harry _pushed_ her clothed breasts up as she leaned in and started kneading them – they felt _massive_ and doughy, as usual and he _loved_ how his fingers just sank right in.

“Ginny!” Gabrielle whined.

Ginny pulled off Harry with a _slurp_ and looked at Gabrielle with a playful smirk. “Didn’t you hear him?” she asked, “ _I_ am in charge today.”

She pushed Harry’s chest lightly, prompting him to take a step back, which he did. She knelt and then _pulled_ his pants down along with his boxers, pooling them around his ankles. Harry raised his legs one after the other stepping over his clothes. And as soon as his pants came off his knees, his cock _snapped_ out and _sprang_ into position at a perfect ninety degrees to the vertical and Ginny _laughed_ at the sight.

“I never get tired of looking at that enormous fuckmeat,” Ginny remarked.

Then Ginny turned to look at Gabrielle, who was already stripping down in front of Harry and was now in her bra and lingerie. “Such an eager veela slut,” Ginny said. She grabbed Gabrielle and _pulled_ the blonde down to her knees before she could start working her bra off. Ginny curled her left palm around Harry’s enormous head; with her right, she _pushed_ Gabrielle by the back of her head _right_ onto Harry’s fat crown. The veela opened her mouth almost on instinct and Harry’s cockhead _popped_ into her wet mouth. Ginny moved her hand down Harry’s cock in sync with Gabrielle’s head and Harry moaned at the combined feeling of wetness and pressure. Eventually, when Gabrielle was around a quarter of the way down his cock, she began to gag, quite _violently_.

“She acts _so_ superior!” Ginny crowed, “But look at the veela _now_! Choking on that big fat cock!”

Gabrielle moved her head from side to side, rippling the cockmeat in her mouth, trying to _tear_ her mouth open so that she could take in more of Harry’s cock. It felt _amazing_ to Harry – the top quarter of his cock was _buried_ in this hot, wet space while Gabrielle’s tongue _lashed_ around the bottom, even as Ginny beat off the lower three-quarters with her left hand. Tears streamed out of Gabrielle’s pretty blue eyes as she choked around his man-meat. Eventually, she _tried_ to pull off, but Ginny’s hand held her in place.

“MMMMMMMMMMMMMNNNNNN!” Gabrielle screamed, sending heavenly vibrations around Harry’s rod and Ginny laughed.

“Had enough?” Ginny asked, as she let go. Gabrielle withdrew with a gasp, Harry’s cock popping out of her mouth – there was a _web_ of saliva connecting his cock to Gabrielle’s panting mouth.

“ _Merde_ ,” Gabrielle gasped, but Ginny bunched up Gabrielle’s hair into a make-shift pony tail and _slammed_ her down on Harry’s cock again.

“Yes,” Harry hissed as he felt his cock sink down that amazing _tight_ , spit-soaked cavern again. Gabrielle’s pretty blue eyes looked straight up into his own with… adoration. Mixed with _awe_.

Ginny started _working_ Gabrielle up and down Harry’s cock, her tight mouth working wonders across the part of his shaft she _could_ engulf. Ginny took her left palm off Harry’s cock and started _slapping_ Gabrielle’s bra-clad tits with loud _thwacks_.

Ginny was actually _using_ the veela now to pleasure their mutual boyfriend like a sex toy – Gabrielle desperately tried to deep-throat Harry as her tits jiggled all over the place thanks to Ginny’s incessant slapping. Gabrielle was actually making loud “ _glugglugglug”_ sounds around his cock now, lathering it with spit.

Ginny suddenly let go of Gabrielle and stood up to kiss Harry. She closed her hand around his shaft and _squeezed_ it, even as Gabrielle slurped around the head of his cock. Their tongues entwined and Harry _plundered_ Ginny’s mouth, licking around her inner cheeks. Eventually, Ginny drew off with a gasp. She sat on Audrey’s bed and _beckoned_ to Harry. Harry sidestepped towards the bed, _dragging_ Gabrielle along with him, her mouth still _tasting_ and _slobbering_ over his cock. The half-veela waddled on her knees desperately to keep up while not letting go of the cock in her mouth. And then Harry slowly began to turn in place so that Gabrielle was forced to shuffle clockwise as well on her knees. Eventually, they came to a stop with Harry facing Ginny, who was seated on the bed, with Gabrielle between them, on her knees on the carpeted floor as she _stuffed_ Harry’s cock into her mouth.

Ginny _leaned_ forward, snaking her arms under Gabrielle’s armpits as the veela continued her sloppy blowjob. Once Ginny had Gabrielle in a full Nelson, she slowly leaned back on the bed and loosened her grip until she had Gabrielle’s wrists _locked_ behind the blonde girl. Harry thought it was incredibly erotic – Gabrielle was blowing his pole even as her hands were stretched and _locked_ behind her.

But Ginny wasn’t done. With a sudden movement, she _pulled_ at Gabrielle’s arms while simultaneously lifting her feet off the ground as she sat back on the bed. Ginny slapped one foot down on Gabrielle’s back and the other on Gabrielle’s head. Gabrielle’s arms were now stretched out behind her as Ginny _pushed_ the veela down with her _feet_. Gabrielle screamed around Harry’s pole as all of her control was taken from her in one go.

“YES!” Ginny yelled, “I haven’t forgiven you for what you said before, little _slut_. You wanted _first_ place, eh? And Hermione in _second_ place! And me… you _forgot_ about me!”

“MMMMMMFFFFNNNNNN!” Gabrielle screamed as Ginny pumped her feet back and forth, never allowing Gabrielle any respite as she pushed her down _further_ on Harry’s cock at each downstroke.

“Little _bitch_!” Ginny screamed, “Getting your comeuppance _now_! How does first place _feel_ , Gabby?”

Harry grinned. He _liked_ this part of Ginny – when she became _possessive_. He _loved_ it when the redhead became _primal_. Ginny grinned right back at him.

“You _love_ that, Harry? You love the feeling of this French slut crying on your big cock?” Ginny asked hotly, pushing Gabrielle down on his cock with her feet.

“Sure do,” he said. Ginny laughed and kicked out even more, forcing Gabrielle to gag on his penis.

Gabrielle was squealing and shrieking now, impaled on his cock as she was – muffled screams that echoed around Audrey’s bedroom.

“Not as submissive as you _thought_ , am I, _Mistress_ Gabby?” Ginny taunted, saying the word “Mistress” with a mocking lilt.

Harry groaned as Gabrielle’s throat started convulsing, heavingalong his shaft – walls of wetness closed and constricted around his sensitive skin and he _loved_ the feeling.

Ginny then let go of Gabrielle’s hands and relaxed, sitting back atop the bed with a smirk on her face as Gabrielle frantically snapped her hands forward and _pushed_ off Harry’s cock yet again, panting and huffing. Ginny pulled off her robes and underclothes, and sat naked on the bed, even as Gabrielle continued to huff in front of her, holding onto Harry’s thighs to keep herself upright.

“It’s not over yet, bitch,” the redhead said harshly as she grabbed around Gabrielle by her tits and _pulled_ at her nipples. The veela shrieked and Ginny _lifted_ her up with immense effort. Gabrielle was pulled to her feet and then onto the bed on Ginny’s lap. Ginny pulled them _both_ back, so that Gabrielle’s back lay on top of her own tits as Ginny lay on the bed. Ginny then _coiled_ her legs around Gabrielle, pushing her knees over Gabrielle’s and twisting her shins around Gabrielle’s own legs, using her ankles to lock Gabrielle’s legs to her own. Simultaneously, she held Gabrielle in a chokehold with her arms, one arm around Gabrielle’s neck and the other on top of her head.

Ginny then spread her legs, _pulling_ Gabrielle’s own legs apart in the process. Harry _tore_ Gabrielle’s panties off effortlessly and admired the view. Gabrielle’s jutting ass now lay _flattened_ against Ginny’s midriff and both of their twats glistened up at him, one above the other. Ginny’s flaps were _soaked_ in arousal already – Harry grinned at the sight. Ginny always _did_ gush like a fountain. Her clit was completely erect and peeking out in between her folds. Gabrielle, on the other hand, had _plump_ lips that seemed to be _sealed_ tightly, but the truly remarkable feature was her unique veela _stamen_ – it really _did_ look like an _enormous_ clit to Harry’s eyes. Tubular and throbbing erotically, pulsing in tune with her heartbeat.

Harry pushed his cockhead against Gabrielle’s lips, _prying_ them apart with his enormous mushroom head, his girth _crushing_ her veela clit. The Frenchwoman gasped and her eyes glazed. Ginny’s face, which was right next to Gabrielle’s, was looking up at him and grinning at Gabrielle’s plight.

Harry winked at Ginny, then abruptly took his cock _off_ Gabrielle’s plump twat and _speared_ it right between Ginny’s folds, plunging into the redhead in one stroke. Ginny’s velvet walls – tight as ever – parted with _ease_ because of how incredibly _wet_ she was and slickly enveloped Harry’s shaft with a loving caress. Ginny _screamed_ right in Gabrielle’s ear and the veela cringed. But the Frenchwoman could not move – Ginny’s grip tightened around her as Harry started _slamming_ in and out of the redhead, her folds making an incredibly dirty sound as they _dragged_ back and forth around Harry’s spit-soaked cock.

“HAAAAAARRRRRYYYYYY!” Ginny screamed as both she and Gabrielle started bouncing back and forth on the bed, “A _warning_ next time! OOOOOOHHHHHHHH!”

Harry just grinned as he felt his first girlfriend’s pussy start convulsing around his cock, walls contracting and expanding in rhythm with his thrusts, even as his head _breached_ her cervix and _popped_ out of her womb with each stroke back and forth. His balls _slapped_ onto her ass, which was flattened onto the bed.

Ginny’s screams and yells rose in pitch as Harry started increasing his pace, and Harry started brutalizing his girlfriend’s pussy – he _loved_ doing this. Ginny was a real firecracker in bed and he _had_ missed this.

And then, there was a _squelch_ sound, just like with Hermione a few nights back and Ginny _squirted_ – she was by far the most amazing squirter he knew, apart from Molly. Streams of pussy juice gushed out of her vagina and _sprayed_ both Gabrielle’s cunt above her, as well as Harry’s chest and abdomen – the girl could really _shoot_. And Harry just _surged_ through Ginny’s violent orgasm, _fucking_ in and out of her like a jackhammer as vile noises echoed in Audrey’s bedroom – of gushing and squirting, fucking and pounding, the wet _slap-slap-slap_ of naked flesh and the screams and moans of the girls he was fucking.

Harry abruptly _pulled_ out of Ginny’s pussy, her flaps _clinging_ wetly to him as he popped out. Harry then _stuffed_ his cock between Gabrielle’s lower lips, his head _bursting_ into her vagina with a loud _schlicking_ noise. Ginny’s quim continued to convulse and spray his balls with her juices. Gabrielle’s love canal was _incredibly_ tight, but parted with _ease_ before his pole, as he slid home into her, his stomach _clapping_ against her waist, even as his balls slapped into Ginny’s clit, making the redhead scream again as she kept cumming.

“AAAAAAAHHHHHH!” Gabrielle yelled in an open-throated scream as Harry started spearing into the veela now, pounding in and out of her wet cunt like a piston. Gabrielle’s twat seemed to be drooling all over his cock, gushing out juices at an incredible rate, convulsing and spasming around his fat rod.

“OUI OUI OUI!” Gabrielle kept screaming with each savage thrust into her twat and eventually, _she_ started orgasming, at which Harry pulled straight out and _plunged_ into Ginny again.

“Double… dipping… are we?” Ginny asked hotly, panting as his cock snuggled in and out of her heaving pussy, “Loosening our cunts with your enormous _fuckmeat? HUH!_ HUH OOOHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Ginny seemed to lose all coherence as her orgasm – that had been winding down – revved up again and _more_ juices gushed out sloshing pussy, her lips bulging outward obscenely, _ruined_ by Harry’s cock.

Harry continued in this vein, extending each girl’s orgasm just as it petered out, spearing into their cunts turn by turn. He _loved_ how Gabrielle’s cunt coiled around his cock with an incredible grip that just seemed to give way when he moved, and how Ginny’s walls stayed _flush_ on his cock and allowed him to move only because of how incredibly wet the redhead could get. And the bedroom echoed with Ginny’s “OHHHHH” and Gabrielle’s “AHHHHHHH”. Ginny was actually _licking_ the side of Gabrielle’s face now with a wild, frenzied lust, even as her pussy gushed out gallons of cunt-juice onto Audrey’s sheets.

“Enough,” Harry said at last, pulling free of Gabrielle’s cunt, which was _soaked_ in both _her_ juices and Ginny’s squirt.

He _tore_ Gabrielle off Ginny and shoved the blonde to the side. The person he _wanted_ now was Ginny. Ginny just looked up at him with glazed eyes, her cunt literally _throbbing_ as it _gaped_ open after her thorough fucking.

“Harry…” Ginny panted, “Oh… _fuck_ …”

And he abruptly turned her over onto her stomach so that her amazing bubble butt lay invitingly over the bed. Enormous, _smooth_ mountains of flesh with nary a wrinkle on them. Harry _mauled_ her cheeks with large palms and Ginny squealed. He _prised_ them apart, and _slapped_ them back together, watching them ripple and bounce with delight. Harry _shoved_ two fingers into Ginny’s vagina, thoroughly soaking them with the redhead’s cunt-juices. He then brought his fingers to bear right between Ginny’s butt-cheeks, teasing the edges of her rosebud.

Ginny gasped. “Harry… I…”

“Not a _word_ ,” Harry said coldly and _pushed_ against Ginny’s asshole. It throbbed against his fingers and widened in a maddeningly slow manner. He then waddled forward on the bed and _slapped_ his cock down on Ginny’s left ass cheek. He beckoned to Gabrielle, who dragged herself forward on the bed and lay her head on Ginny’s back as she _suckled_ his cockhead, slobbering over it again.

“Yes,” Ginny gasped, “Get Harry’s cock wet for my… OOOOOH!”

Harry _plunged_ his fingers into Ginny’s asshole as her first ring of muscle parted and her rosebud accepted his insistent invasion. Harry shook his fingers around her asshole, and chuckled as her bum bounced all over the place in a delicious manner.

“Fuck,” Harry groaned, “Your ass is enormous.”

 _Just like your mother’s_ , he thought.

More rings of muscle loosened up as Harry’s fingers sank knuckle deep into Ginny’s ass, even as Gabrielle sucked and slurped _noisily_ on his cock. Gabrielle’s wet tongue ran back and forth across the sides of his penis as she worked her mouth all over his shaft, occasionally reaching out to lick Ginny’s back and arse. Through it all, Harry kept working his index and middle fingers in and out of Ginny’s ass, making sure it was loosening up. He _flexed_ his magic and one of the large cushions at the head of the bed jumped into his hand. He lifted Ginny’s wide ass into the air, circling her hips with his left hand while digging into her butthole with his right and placed the cushion beneath her tummy. He then summoned the remaining cushions and stuffed them between Ginny and the bed so that Ginny now lay on the bed with her ass in the air, supported by the cushions.

Gabrielle, never taking her lips off Harry’s cock, circled around Ginny so that she was now right beside Harry, only bent over with her lips on the base of his enormous shaft, licking all over the top of his cock. “Gabby,” Harry said, “Lick _her_ now.”

Gabrielle looked up at him for an instant, then moved. She lifted Harry’s cock off Ginny’s ass and slid right under it. Harry casually mussed up Gabrielle’s hair with his cock as the veela gave Ginny a noisy rimjob.

“That feels so _dirty_ ,” Ginny moaned, “She’s actually… _oh fuck_ … her tongue… _fuck_!”

Gabrielle actually shifted _over_ Ginny with her legs on either side of the busty girl’s head as she _tongued_ Ginny’s puckered anus. The veela was now upside down over Ginny’s back, with her knees around Ginny’s head on the bed; Gabrielle was actually bending _over_ Ginny to delve into her dumper. Harry chuckled softly as he saw Gabrielle’s head _burrowing_ between Ginny’s ass cheeks, slurping noisily at the redhead’s rosebud.

“Ooh,” Ginny moaned, “She’s licking around my asshole, Harry. The dirty little _slut_.”

Harry seized Gabrielle’s hair and _snapped_ her head up, her neck arching backwards. Her mouth was wide open and her tongue was lolling out; Harry _plunged_ his cock right into her trap. Gabrielle gave a muffled squeal and then _gagged_ as Harry hit the entrance of her throat. Simultaneously, Harry pushed his fingers down into Ginny’s asshole. Harry slammed back and forth into Gabrielle’s mouth a few times, before he withdrew and _pushed_ the veela down again, back into Ginny’s ass, withdrawing his fingers once more.

Gabrielle’s hands were actually _digging_ into Ginny’s soft flesh now, _prying_ those amazing cheeks apart as she dug into Ginny’s ass with her tongue.

Ginny laughed. “This is… _ooh_ … why I love Harry,” she said, addressing Gabrielle, “He just… _oh, that’s amazing_ … One word is enough to make _me_ the top and _you_ the bottom.”

Gabrielle _slapped_ her hands down on Ginny’s cheeks as she continued to slurp and lick away inside Ginny’s ass.

“And no amount of _spanking_ is going to change that, Gabby,” Ginny said happily, “Not until _he_ says otherwise.”

Harry lifted Gabrielle’s head up and _plunged_ his shaft down her throat again – his cock was now _drenched_ with spit and girl-cum – even as he plunged his fingers back into Ginny. He held Gabrielle in place as she choked and then withdrew abruptly. Gabrielle went down on Ginny’s ass again.

Harry continued in this vein for a while, using Gabrielle’s mouth as a cock-sleeve for a bit while fingering Ginny’s ass and then letting Gabrielle continue her amazing rimjob. Eventually, he felt Ginny was as ready as she could be. He snapped Gabrielle’s head up and _pushed_ his cockhead between Ginny’s pillowy cheeks.

“That’s… not Gabrielle’s tongue,” Ginny panted, “Not your fingers either.”

“No,” Harry said, amused.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Ginny gasped as Harry _pushed_ at her asshole – the rim expanding around his cock as he _stuffed_ his crown in.

“ _Merde_ ,” Gabrielle gasped. She was perched right on Ginny’s ass and had full view of Harry’s enormous man-meat slowly squeezing into Ginny’s anus. “He’s _digging_ into your ass, Ginny. It’s stretching _around_ his fat penis.”

“Ooooooh,” Ginny groaned. Harry’s crown _sank_ into her ass, her bubbly cheeks _hugging_ his cock in a manner he thought should be considered _illegal_.

“It feels _amazing_ ,” Harry muttered in awe. This was, by far, the _tightest_ hole he had ever been in – the lubrication was doing wonders for him, and yet, the way Ginny’s ass pressed down and _spread_ around his cock like butter was _wonderful_.

It was incredibly slow going though – in Harry’s estimation, it took _much_ longer to burrow into Ginny’s ass than the first time he had sex with _Hermione_.

“He’s _stuffing_ your ass!” Gabrielle squealed as a quarter of Harry’s cock eventually jammed and stowed its way into Ginny’s bubble butt. Harry _dug_ his fingers into the redhead’s buns and _pulled_ them apart as he sank further and further in.

“So… full,” Ginny gasped.

Gabrielle reached a hand down, between her and Ginny and started rubbing her own pussy furiously at the sight of Harry’s spearing Ginny’s tightest hole.

Millimeter by millimeter, with _incredible_ patience, Harry _sank_ into what he thought was heaven. After what seemed like _hours_ of tortuous pleasure, his abdomen finally met Ginny’s ass and _crushed_ it as his cock lay fully buried inside the redhead’s incredible moon-shaped ass. Harry just _held_ his cock in Ginny’s crushing depths, reveling in the sensation.

“ _Morgana_ ,” Ginny gasped, “I’ve been impaled on a _broomstick_.”

Harry started making slow, small thrusts in and out of Ginny’s ass, wishing this amazing sensation – her arse just seemed so soft, yet so _warm_ and _tight_ around his fat cock - would _never_ end. He scraped and heaved into her bum, his slick shaft sending soft waves across her cushy arse. And slowly, he started speeding up his pace. Ginny squealed and _writhed_ underneath him, making it even _more_ pleasurable for him as he ground into her bum.

Gabrielle was fingering her own cunt quite _furiously_ now, so much so that Harry could actually _hear_ the shlicking sound she was making.

“Oui”, the blonde gasped, “Pound that ass. Pound it to mush.”

Harry _pulled_ out of Ginny’s ass more savagely, feeling it constrict around his cock and then _slammed_ home, his balls slapping onto her cunt. Ginny screamed into the bed. And Harry repeated the motion, thrusting violently in and out of her considerably loosened anus, _probing_ and _fucking_ into it. Harry dug his fingers deeper into her fleshy bum cheeks and Gabrielle actually _bit_ into Ginny’s rippling assmeat as she abused her own twat.

Ginny’s bubble butt was actually jiggling as if it was made of jelly with each slap of his abdomen into her waggling ass and the redhead was _wailing_ into the bed as Harry jackhammered in and out, turning her inside out, distending her asshole with each upstroke, withdrawing nearly _half_ his penis out of her rosebud, and _stuffing_ it back in on each downstroke. Eventually, he _slipped_ his cock right out of Ginny’s asshole, watching it _pull_ out of her rosebud with pleasure. He then _snapped_ Gabrielle’s head back up and stowed his cock into her mouth again, making her choke and drool all over it.

“You like the taste of Ginny’s ass on my cock, Gabby?” he taunted.

He then pulled out of Gabrielle’s throat, yet again, and made Gabrielle go down on Ginny’s starfish.

“ _Merde_ ,” the veela gasped, “Her ass is _wide_ open!”

Harry looked down and chuckled. Ginny’s asshole seemed to be frozen in a perpetual O-shape – almost _gaping_ up at him. He could literally _see_ her anal passage, undulating and pink, convulsing on empty space.

Ginny just moaned into the bed. Gabrielle’s head then covered her ass as the veela delved in yet again with a noisy _slurp_. Gabrielle raised her head after a few seconds of licking Ginny’s ass.

“I can taste your cock on it,” Gabrielle gasped, “I can actually taste _around_ her ass!”

And then Gabrielle’s head disappeared between Ginny’s cheeks again as she renewed her rimjob on the redhead. Harry allowed Gabrielle to lick away for a few minutes before he snapped her head up and forced his cock in again, making her gag. He then pulled out, and pushed his shaft _back_ into Ginny’s incredibly tight arse. This time, though, he allowed Ginny no respite and just _jammed_ his cock in, renewing his savage pounding of her arse.

“MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHH!” Ginny screamed as his balls smashed into her clit again and she _spasmed_ , even as her pussy _exploded_ into a shower of juices, splattering his testicles.

“I’M CUMMING FROM MY ASS!” she screamed stupidly and Harry chuckled.

“She goes off like a fountain each time,” Gabrielle observed as she started grinding her quim on her fingers yet again.

“That she does,” Harry concurred, never pausing in his determined pulverizing of Ginny’s ass. Her pussy continued to splatter tremendous amounts of juices all over his cock and balls, even as he continued to bugger the redhead.

Gabrielle slid off Ginny and with a tentative glance in Harry’s direction, she sat right in front of the wailing, orgasming redhead with her legs wide open, her puffy, abused cunt open for all to see. Harry shrugged at her even as he continued to pump into Ginny’s ass. Gabrielle smiled, lifted Ginny’s head up off the bed – Ginny’s muffled wails turned to open screams, before they were muffled again as Gabrielle shoved the redhead’s face into her cunt.

“Make her _moan_ ,” Gabrielle gasped, “Please. Make her scream into my cunt. The vibrations are _heavenly_.”

Harry grinned at Gabrielle and jumped onto his legs, squatting _over_ Ginny in a powerful stance. He then started _smashing_ at an even greater pace than before, his cum-filled, heavy balls now _bruising_ Ginny’s cunt as he thrashed into her tight ass. Ginny’s ass was now a blur, wobbling all over the place, even as he gripped her waist in an iron grip so that she wouldn’t push forward with each thrust. Gabrielle groaned as Ginny’s scream reached its highest pitch yet, muffled though it was by the half-veela’s twat.

“Smell my _cunt_ , _putain_!” Gabrielle shrieked as she pulled Ginny’s face further into her twat, “ _Scream_ into my _chatte_!”

Ginny kept _squirting_ out fluid and her hands were now _tearing_ the sheets apart. And Harry felt his balls tingling and pulsing as he _squished_ in and out of Ginny’s ass now – he was close to the edge.

All of a sudden, Gabrielle spasmed as she had yet another orgasm. The veela smashed her thighs around Ginny’s face as she screamed to the heavens. And the entire sight – Ginny sandwiched by Gabrielle’s thighs as she screamed into the blonde’s cunt, Gabrielle’s beautiful face contorted in the grips of pleasure, Ginny’s ass rippling as his cock knifed in and out of her amazing butt… Harry felt his balls _pulse_ as he _smashed_ into Ginny’s ass, burying _deep_ inside with his balls flush against her convulsing pussy.

Ginny actually _slapped_ her hands onto Gabrielle’s thighs as Harry’s cock expanded and _pulsed_ deep inside her abused ass. Harry grunted and his cock recoiled, shooting stream after stream of his seed into Ginny’s gaping hole. Harry _mauled_ her ass for all it was worth as his extended high went on and on, discharging one thick vat of gooey cum into her ass after another.

And eventually, he drew out his cock out of her cum-filled asshole and slapped it down on top of her ass, laughing as he watched his own semen spill out and run in streams across her sweat-drenched, massive cheeks. Gabrielle seemed to have come down from her own orgasm and was watching his semen spill forth with wide eyes, as if she was making up her mind about something.

Suddenly, the veela leapt forward and dove into Ginny’s ass, tasting his sperm right out of her bum and Harry laughed at the sight. Harry waddled around the bed and laid on his side right beside Ginny – the redhead seemed to be moaning and panting on the bed, her eyes completely glazed in the afterglow of a thorough fucking.

“So…” Harry said, by way of conversation.

Ginny just moaned and drooled in stupefaction on the bed, and Gabrielle seemed to busy slurping away at her asshole. It was a comical sight – yet so erotic; Ginny was lying on the bed with her ass high in the air, and Gabrielle was buried between the redhead’s butt cheeks, licking away noisily at the cum sloshing around inside Ginny’s ass.

Harry just sighed and relaxed, meditating on his own troubles now that he had been sated temporarily.

***

“We’re so… lucky Audrey didn’t catch us all in her bedroom,” Ginny said wearily as Harry half-carried her back to Hogwarts with his hand around her waist.

Gabrielle laughed. “What I’m really intrigued by is _why_ Harry knew _of_ her bedroom in the first place.”

Ginny looked at Harry with a sly smile. “She… and you…” Ginny said suggestively.

“Yeah,” Harry muttered.

Ginny sighed. “Don’t worry Harry, I’m not… intimidated. Not anymore.”

Harry looked at her curiously, then looked at Gabrielle, who looked quite happy.

“You girls seem… abnormally cheerful,” he said.

“We’re always glad after a bout of sex, love,” Ginny said. After a moment, both she and Gabrielle broke out into a giggling fit.

“Not what I meant,” Harry said in a flat voice, “I meant… I’d have thought you two would be mad at the stunt Hermione pulled.”

“Do you regret it?” Gabrielle asked him.

Harry shook his head. “Not for a moment,” he said.

Gabrielle smirked. “Yeah, thought so,” she said.

“Hermione got us all together in her room,” Ginny said quietly, “She told us… that we should all get along rather than… you know…”

“Being catty,” Harry finished.

“I do _not_ get catty,” Ginny sniffed, but her face softened as Harry chuckled.

“So, that’s it?” he asked curiously, “She just delivered a monologue… and you guys were satisfied?”

“I’m still a little mad at her,” Ginny said, “But that’s what _adults_ do, Harry. They talk things over.” She giggled again.

“Uh-huh,” Harry said in an amused voice.

“She was right though,” Gabrielle said, clutching the arm on his other side and walking alongside him, “At the end of the day, _you_ have not been particularly partial to _any_ of us. So… what were we fighting for anyway?”

“Not that Gabby will ever be able to suppress her competitive instinct,” Ginny said. Gabrielle stuck her tongue out across Harry at the redhead.

“But,” Gabrielle said firmly, “I _do_ like Hermione. She’s got a great head on her shoulders.”

“That she does,” Harry said fondly.

“Like I said,” Gabrielle continued, “She’s right. At the end of the day, I think there’s a _part_ of you that is attracted to each of us – and that’s… enough.

“And as long as we stay united… and do not clash, we _can_ make this work. On the other hand, if we keep up with the in-fighting, we’ll all lose you. That’s the gist of what Hermione said, anyway.”

Harry squirmed a bit at that, but he merely nodded. Gabrielle _was_ hitting a bit too close to the truth for comfort – Harry _had_ thought the same thing about the Deathly Hallows.

And just like that, all of his worries came crashing back down like he had been drenched in cold water. The hallows, his quest to control them, Dumbledore’s frustrating, meandering notes… he felt slightly miserable for trying to distract himself now.

Eventually, with Harry’s knowledge of Hogwarts’ secret corridors, they reached the Gryffindor dorms without being caught – they had long since passed curfew. He let Gabrielle support Ginny back to the girls’ dorm. He, on the other hand, wished them goodnight and headed straight for the showers. He needed to get back to his studies.

***

His muscles relaxed as a stream of warm water poured over his body, soothing and caressing him. He leaned against the wall and just _breathed_ , trying to sort his thoughts out. And even so, he _knew_ the Hallows were _all_ influencing him now – he recognized the bloodlust he was feeling, and the sense of impending doom. The voices and whispers in his head were back with a vengeance – the sex obviously was not working any more as a stalling mechanism.

Everything he had learned, everything he had gathered – he parsed it all through his head. It reminded him of his first two years at Hogwarts – those years had been filled mysteries that had to be unraveled with care and attention to detail. All the pieces he _could_ gather were there for the taking, but the pieces were so discrete and unconnected that he had trouble making an association amongst them.

At the very least, on the domestic front, he wasn’t having any troubles. He supposed he was in a genuine polyamorous relationship right now – with Hermione, Gabrielle and Ginny. It was comforting to know that three of the most talented and affectionate witches he knew were genuinely attracted to him. At the same time, he felt like he was on a helpless ride – how could he even _tell_ where his feelings ended and where the Hallows began?

 _“As long as we stay united… and do not clash, we can make this work_. _”_

Harry pondered that statement for a moment. Gabrielle had obviously been talking about the relationship, but Harry _had_ thought that was the solution to the problem of the Hallows as well – if he united them, under his ownership, he _could_ make them work for _him_. But Dumbledore _had_ been right – the Hallows did not cancel each other out, they merely superimposed upon each other, _tearing_ his mind apart with divergent feelings.

And then there was the mysterious letter in Dumbledore’s diary – apparently from Ignotus Peverell to Merlin himself. Ignotus had been making a _weapon_ for Merlin… no, he had said “ _our_ weapon”. It meant that Ignotus had been manufacturing a… weapon with someone else, most likely with his brothers.

It _had_ struck Harry that the weapon that Ignotus had referred to _could_ be the Elder Wand… so what? But if Ignotus said there was no “hope” for the Elder Wand – what did he mean? Did he mean that the fearsome control that the Elder Wand exercised over its owners rendered it useless? And were _all_ three Peverell brothers involved in its construction?

Harry sighed. Dumbledore had been right all along – it was a vain quest to control the Elder Wand if even the wisest of the Peverell brothers had deemed it hopeless.

 _“The Elder Wand is an anomaly, Harry,”_ Dumbledore’s portrait had said, “ _A blight on the world. A tear in the fabric of reality – it should not exist. It is monstrously empty – incomplete, filled with neither good nor bad. Utterly hollow. It should not be used. It can never be controlled.”_

“Damn it,” Harry swore and then sighed. He looked up at the wall he was leaning against, the light buzz of water droplets across his skin no longer a soothing touch so much as an annoying hum. “I’m doomed.”

He closed his eyes and cursed Xenophilius for ever peeking inside Dumbledore’s tomb. If Xeno had not peeked, perhaps Harry would not have retrieved the wand. That _stupid_ editor and that _stupid_ locket... Harry closed his eyes in frustration.

Images danced across his vision. A triangle enclosing a circle and a line. They danced across the darkness, mocking him and teasing him. And then they all melded together into a red blur that caused Harry to grit his teeth. Unity. _Such_ _a lie_.

And then it struck him. Harry reeled and clutched onto the wall for support as every fiber of his being was suffused with a sudden lightness.

He had stumbled upon the solution.

It was so _simple_. Unity _was_ the answer. It had been staring him in the face all along. It had been staring _Dumbledore_ in the face all along.

Harry turned off the shower, toweled himself off hurriedly, put on his bathrobe and _charged_ into his dorm.

“Eureka.”

***

_Sometime in March, Quidditch Stadium_

Harry stood tall, back straight and wand held high, facing Gabrielle Delacour in the final match of the Contest of Wands. The stadium was filled with a thousand spectators – both human and non-human. Cheers and applause rang in his ears.

“Bow,” the arbiter said and they both bowed to each other. The crowd roared in approval.

“BEGIN!”

And they sprang into action.

***

_Mid-January, in an abandoned classroom_

Harry feverishly flipped through Dumbledore’s diary and finally landed upon the page he wanted. On that page, Dumbledore had described his thoughts on the final step of the wand-making process. It seemed so obvious in retrospect that Harry was kicking himself for missing it entirely. The devil truly was in the details. The diary said:

_“The last step of making a wand – often the easiest step in terms of the intense rituals that accompany wand-making – is still difficult, but not in terms of actual procedure. However, it does take a modicum of clever association to land the finishing touches upon a wand. In simple terms, it involves an additional ingredient that is associated with the ‘theme’ of the wand core as well as the presence of a rune connecting the two._

_“For instance, let us consider a wand that uses phoenix feathers as a core. Generally speaking, phoenixes represent the ‘flame’ of life. As such, a wandmaker might invoke the rune for ‘life’ as well as the rune for ‘fire’ – this would involve activating the runes with the incomplete wand. However, as mentioned above, it would also require an additional ingredient associated with the ‘flame of life’ theme. Garrick once confided in me that he prefers using a portion of a Gubraithian Fire – he travels to Italy once every year for a portion of the everlasting flame that so few wizards can conjure. It is a clever association on Garrick’s part – the Gubraithian Fire never dies, and as such, it would be a fantastic representation of the ‘spirit’ of an undying phoenix._

_“Similarly, unicorns would represent purity – nobility of spirit. The rune for ‘purity’ would make for perfect invocation, in addition to the rune for ‘spirit’ or the ‘soul’. However, Garrick claims that he still has not found the perfect ingredient to associate with the ‘theme’ – hence, his unicorn core wands frequently require repair or replacement. He uses a bezoar – it does purify the body of most poisons and staves off ill health – as an additional ingredient.”_

Harry laughed.

The Peverell Brothers had all been wand-makers – the weapon they had been making _was_ the Elder Wand. And Dumbledore had said it himself, by way of his portrait – that the Elder wand was “ _incomplete, filled with neither good nor bad._ ” Only, Dumbledore himself had not realized the weight of his own words.

The Elder Wand was perhaps the most powerful wand known to man – but it truly was _incomplete_. That was why it was so whimsical about its ownership. Because it had no connection to its _theme_ , which stabilized its being. The Peverell brothers had been stymied before they could carry out the last step – someone had slit Antioch Peverell’s throat and carried the wand away, just like in the fairy tale. The remaining brothers had tried to flee with the ingredients they were to use in the last step, but the Resurrection Stone had then been lost. Only Ignotus survived, with the Cloak.

Only, the stone and the cloak were never meant to be standalone artefacts – that’s _why_ the legend of the three Hallows endured; they were never meant to be used alone. His cloak was never meant to be an invisibility cloak – it looked _nothing_ like a cloak in the first place. The invisibility had only been a side effect. It had been made _by_ Ignotus for use in the final step of forging the Elder Wand.

Only, the Elder Wand was so powerful it required _two_ additional ingredients. Hence, Cadmus’ stone.

Harry laid the cloak and the stone on the table in the middle of the classroom with trembling hands. He pushed them aside so that they lay along the edge of the table, leaving space in the middle.

He then carved the rune for ‘enemy’ onto the table in front of him in Elder Futhark, with a bit of help from an Ancient Runes book he had borrowed from the library.

_The Elder Wand. An instrument for vanquishing your enemies._

He then carved the rune for ‘death’.

_The Stone. A tool capable of peering beyond the veil of death itself._

And finally, the rune for ‘conquest’. The book of runes said it also stood for ‘destruction.’

 _The Cloak_. _A means of conquering death itself_.

He touched his wand to the runes, _invoking_ his magic and binding it with the runes. The runes glowed in the dim light of the classroom. _Enemy_ , _destruction_ and _death_. Together, they invoked the _theme_ of the Deathstick:

 _“The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death_.”

It was not just a meaningless, throwaway quote after all. It was a _message_ – passed on by Ignotus Peverell. The _theme_ for the last step in the creation of the Elder Wand; he had anticipated that someday, someone would figure it out.

***

 _March_ , _Quidditch Stadium_

The crowd roared as Gabrielle went on the offensive straightaway, throwing balls of fire right at Harry. He smiled and waved his wand. A burst of wind rippled out, extinguishing the balls of fire with ease.

Gabrielle transformed and took to the air – tremendous fiery bursts started raging forth at Harry. At least a dozen balls of fire blazed down upon him.

Harry held his wand aloft with his right hand and closed his left fist. Magic _rippled_ around him and a dozen wisps of utter blackness burst forth from his wand, meeting the balls of fire in mid-air. He opened his left palm and the fires _imploded_ , withdrawing ineffectually. Gabrielle gave a screech of frustration and zipped through the air to avoid Harry’s counter attack – his spells ricocheted past her.

She sent down more balls of fire, but Harry just grinned and _raised_ his hands, calling upon his magic. A tremendous plume of fire burst forth, forming a giant claw that whooshed into the air. Gabrielle’s miniscule fireballs splashed uselessly against the fiery claw as it burst through the air, zooming straight for her. Harry made a grabbing motion with his hand and the giant claw of fire reflected his actions, grabbing at Gabrielle.

The half-veela gave a frightened screech and her wings flapped frantically as she dove _under_ the fire and _swooped_ at Harry like a bird of prey. It was an act of desperation, she hoped to end the duel before she was overwhelmed, depending on her superior reflexes to avoid Harry’s powerful magic and her superior strength to physically tear Harry’s wand from him so that she could end the duel quickly.

Harry just grinned as his fiery conjuration vanished, only to reveal the fearsome avian form bearing down upon him with outstretched talons.

***

_January, abandoned classroom_

Harry touched his wand to the cloak and concentrated on the runes. His wand started vibrating and Harry grit his teeth, holding it in place. The rune for conquest glowed brighter than the other two runes and the cloak _melted_ before his very eyes and moved, like a lethifold, right _into_ the wand. A rushing sound echoed in his ears as the cloak simply _flowed_ it his wand. The bloodlust dimmed and the pounding in his ears lowered to a whisper.

He then tensed his muscles and held his wand with both hands, trying to control it as lightning burst forth from the tip, searing the walls. Benches floated into the air and began _swirling_ around him, blown by cold, turbulent currents of air. The wind blew right against him and Harry roared as he brought the wand around with tremendous effort and touched it to the stone.

The rune for death blazed and the stone turned to dust. The dust rose into the air and then glimmered in the darkness. And then, like wisps of life being extinguished, the dust turned black as death and rushed towards the wand, sticking to it and then _diffusing_ into the wood.

The rune for enemy glowed with an unholy light. The wind blew harder than ever – shattering desks and chairs against the walls. Lightning fizzled out from the tip of Harry’s wand. And at the center of all the commotion stood Harry Potter himself, face set in immense determination as he stood rooted to the spot in the eye of the storm.

 _The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death_.

***

_March, Quidditch Stadium_

Harry saw Gabrielle’s avian form swoop down upon him with impossible speed, but he had anticipated the tactic. He switched wand hands and then pointed his wand at himself, casting an ancient spell. His muscles tightened and tensed as he received a temporary boost in strength. Veins popped up all over his body as he stood rooted firmly to the dueling platform.

Then, just as Gabrielle’s talons closed in on his shoulders, Harry took a step back and the veela screeched as her claws grabbed at empty air. Gabrielle rose into the air, possibly to make another desperate sweep, but Harry stretched out with his right arm, grasping her leg just above her outstretched talons.

He then _pulled_ with magically enhanced strength. Gabrielle’s wings flapped helplessly as Harry brought her crashing down onto the platform on her back. Simultaneously, Harry jabbed his left hand forward, casting a cushion of air right where Gabrielle was about to crash onto the ground.

Gabrielle screeched as she hit the cushion of air. She tried to right herself, but found that her legs had been snapped shut with chains. She tried morphing back to her human form, flailing desperately for her wand, but her hands closed in on an empty wand holster.

The chains and the air cushion vanished as Gabrielle sank onto the platform. She rolled over and looked up at Harry. He had long since disarmed her and was holding her wand in his right arm. Despite herself, she smiled.

She had never stood a chance.

Harry grinned as a sudden silence fell upon the crowd. He waved Gabrielle’s wand in a complex motion, conjuring a golden rose, which he floated over the Gabrielle with an impish smile. She smiled right back, got up and dusted herself off. And daintily, she grabbed the rose. The ladies in the crowd screamed. Harry then handed Gabrielle’s wand to her.

He then caught Gabrielle’s hand and raised it into the air, pumping both of their hands into the air. And the non-humans in the crowd roared in approval – it was Harry’s way of declaring his allegiance to their quest for equality. He looked at Gabrielle and whispered, “Well fought, Gabby.”

She looked right at him and winked. “I _shall_ expect a consolation prize tonight,” she said primly.

Harry winked right back, dropped her hand and walked over to where the arbiter waited with a golden trophy.

***

_The storm grew to a fever pitch, like applause in his ears. The wand blazed golden in his hand, like a trophy held aloft in the air._

***

Harry caught the trophy and raised it into the air and the crowd roared and applauded. Chants of “Harry” echoed throughout the stadium.

***

_The storm died down. The lightning ceased to be. The runes stopped glowing. The rushing in his ears ceased. The whispers in his head died. And the world burst into beautiful color. The drab walls seemed to blaze with life. Torches around the room burst into fiery flame. And best of all, Harry could truly feel everything – happiness, love, compassion… all of his suppressed feelings came bursting forth, filling him with awe._

***

Harry brought the trophy down and shook the arbiter’s hand.

***

_Harry brought his arm down, along with the Elder Wand. Magic flowed into him from it. He had done it – he had united the Deathly Hallows. The wand was docile, yet thrummed with power in his hands – it truly belonged to him now, forever and beyond._

***

His destiny… his future, was now in _his_ hands. He was no longer a pawn any more – he was no longer Dumbledore’s weapon, nor the Chosen One, nor a puppet strung around by the Hallows. The Wand was _his_ to use now. All of its power now _belonged_ to him. He was now _Master_ of the Deathly Hallows. He could _feel_ it in his very bones.

He saw Gabrielle meet up with Hermione and Ginny and talk softly with them. All three girls turned to him and smiled. He smiled right back and winked.

“And now,” Harry murmured, “My life truly begins.”

***


End file.
